


Life of Morbius

by Duskkodesh



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Character Background, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Filling in between canon, Filling in comic plotholes, He is the biggest idiot and I love him, Morbius the Living Vampire - Freeform, Three adult scenes because reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 04:39:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 58,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duskkodesh/pseuds/Duskkodesh
Summary: A fanfic covering the bio of Michael Morbius the Living Vampire from his normal life and relationship with his fiance Martine, through his life as a villain and hero. Mostly canon Marvel universe AU with some characters inserted for entertainment value. (No Keatinge 2013 retcon bull, No Jared Leto foolishness). I'm trying to flush out his life and relationships better than the comics. WARNING ADULT CONTENT





	1. The Award

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyyo! This is my Life Of Morbius fic from *Cough* another site that should be much more at home here. It's also the first thing I ever wrote so I hope I've gotten better over time! My premise was to go from before his first appearance to fill in his entirety of notable appearances. Obviously there are holes or I'd have written something closer in size to the bible! I'll be touching this up and editing it as needed, anyways I hope you enjoy! I love Morbius, he's honestly my favorite character and I hope others like him too.

The campus at Empire State University was bustling with activity, students hurried along finding their routes to their newly registered classes for fall semester, staff went about preparing their classrooms with needed supplies, and everyone it seems was at a steady panic. The school was centered among a commercially successful section of New York. Its buildings spread along the surrounding edge of a well landscaped park. Beyond the plethora of academic buildings were the surrounding streets full of trendy shops, night clubs, and restaurants all framed by antiquated brick and marked by the occasional sign of sloppy graffiti. Traffic stood still due to the steady stream of students preparing for their new lives, most hoisting furniture or clothes to their dorms. Everyone was in a rush, fall semester started tomorrow and time was running out for preparations.

Michael hated this time of year. It had been a good twenty years since he was "discovered" as a sixteen year old student in Greece and received a full paid scholarship to ESU. By the age of twenty-four he had graduated with multiple doctorates specializing in biochemistry and he'd accepted a position in the school's bio lab. It had been over a decade since then and though he had gained greater and greater fame in his field his life was the same as ever.

Every day he'd wake up in his small off campus apartment, eat at a local cafe and head to work where he stayed for ten hours overseeing tests. He would then head home exhausted, bathe, sometimes read, eat, and retire for the evening. The others in the lab thought he was a recluse, he never really smiled, he was never known to praise anyone for their work, and when he had taught a few classes in the years prior he had a legendary student failure rate. Sometimes he would catch wind of a new rumor about him that had been making the rounds. He would hear that he performed tests on student corpses, or that he had once poisoned all the fountains on the ground floor, or that he had been the subject of a small laboratory explosion gifting him with his trademark looks. He tried not to let it bother him, his looks after all weren't handsome by any means, quite the opposite, but he had never been in any explosions nor had he done any of the other immoral acts people talked about. Michael was pale by habit and had large eyes with a slight deformation in his nose. His wrinkles were firm pressed into the pattern of his face and he wore his hair long, it fell black and winding to his shoulders. He was just an introverted man who preferred to do things his way or not at all and he had no time to worry over his appearance. He had everything he could ever want anyways, his own lab, his own office, _his own space that no one else could invade_.

 _Today though, hah! Today the only rumors circulating would be ones of astonishment._ He almost let a smile slip as he had received a call from the head of the medical department today at five AM. One of his patented devices this year had passed testing and was going to save thousands of lives for those people who needed organ donation. As a result it was announced overnight that he would be receiving a Nobel peace prize for his body of work in the medical field. It was a huge accolade and the school had a very vested interest in his award. Tonight he had a short shift because at six there would be an announcement. Saturday at eight there would be a black tie cocktail dinner where he was expected to make a speech and rub noses with some of the school's alumni and investors then at noon the next day a "science luncheon" where he was to talk to some of the most promising students in the research field.

He sighed under his breath and let loose a small string of Greek profanities. The entire weekend was shot, maybe next week as well and possibly more for the ceremony in December. It was to the point where he was putting his experiments off and charging others with the upkeep of his lab and he hated that, all the more chance for someone to fuck up his work. He took the steps up the front of the building narrowly dodging an idiot texting on their phone and walking. Jack Russel, one of the few men he could call "friend" was waiting for him when he got to his office. He was a tall and lean sort of guy who always managed to look like he had just scraped himself off of a barroom floor, but he had the good looks and the charm to pull it off. Michael found himself actually pleased to see him so soon in the day.

"Morb! I heard the news!"

Morbius side-eyed him while wrestling his key into his door. "Who would have thought you actually watch news, I would have thought you would never discover the nomination unless they printed it on a Budweiser label."

"C'mon now you know this is all over the school. Big fucking deal Mike, it's a huge fucking deal! This is some serious shit!" He threw his arm over Michael's shoulder to give him a forceful slap on the back.

"Fantastic. That's just what I wanted. I suppose you want my autograph now? To my loving friend Jack right? May he one day be able to drink beer that isn't swill and find a woman who can tolerate him for more than the three minutes it takes him to achieve orgasm." At this Michael finally let a smile slip. For all the inconvenience Jack caused he was rather good company and one of his only real contacts with the normal world.

Jack chuckled. "It's some serious cash too you know. They give you a big fat grant for this. Do whatever the hell you want with it too, could sit there playing with your dick if that's all you had the mind for."

"I think that is all that you have the mind for."

"And what about that party? Black tie my man! I hope you know I am breaking out my finest duds."

"A truly scary thought."

"And I've got Cindy all lined up as my date."

"Oh good lord. That poor girl."

"Yeah you go ahead and laugh it up but I'll be getting a little something that night ya' dig?"

"I don't have any idea what you're insinuating with such subtlety."

"You have a date? I imagine they're going to expect you to have some pretty thing on your arm."

Michael's smile quickly faded, for all his academic success he had never been good with the ladies and was always somewhat in awe of Jack in that regard. Hell, even his friend and lab assistant Emil had a girlfriend at home in Greece. Michael had gone on several dates in his youth but they went nowhere, most women wanted nothing to do with him. He was a workaholic, cold, logical, and ugly. Not a winning combination. Jack was quick to pick up on his state of emotional turmoil and gave him a few soft pats on the shoulder. Michael shifted his briefcase out of his arm and slunk down into his office chair to think.

"I could set you up. Cindy has a sister..."

"Oh no. No absolutely not. You remember what happened last time."

"She liked you man!"

"No, she did not. She was practically fleeing from me until you started spouting some nonsense about me being rich."

"Hey, you are pretty set and if that's what floats her boat then use it."

"No Jack." Michael craned his back and slid his head down onto his hands supported by the desk. "I want someone who actually likes me, not my bank account."

"Dude, you're what thirty-six now? Beggars can't be choosers." At this Michael made a tap with his hand over his heart, it was a gesture Jack understood well as a friend. _Low blow._ "look I'm sorry, how about I buy you a date?"

Michael sat bolt upright. "Oh good god Jack you don't mean.."

"NOT a prostitute, I promise. It's just an escort service."

"So exactly like a prostitute."

"No man this is legit. There's no sex. They send a nice lady in a fancy gown, she walks with you, laughs at your horrible jokes, makes the other faculty wicked jealous, helps you look somewhat like a human being..."

"Et tu Brute."

"Huh?"

"Look Jack, I appreciate the thought but I'd rather go solo than have someone I've paid to be there."

"Really? Because you remember Larry's gal right?"

Michael let loose a slight involuntary shudder. Larry Burghouse was a department chair and had an exceedingly beautiful, seductive, and morally deplorable girlfriend. Every function that Michael attended she felt like offering her assistance as to how he could acquire a plastic surgeon's services to "fix his face", be set up with one of her newly single friends (who were all equally deplorable), or how he could invest his liquid assets in her modeling business. She viewed Michael as her personal pet project. He had tried simply staring daggers at her when she talked but she was vacant enough that it went unnoticed and he was not the kind of man who could straight up tell her to "go fuck herself". Anything was better than putting up with her for another evening.

"Fuck. Fine. Do it." He slammed his hand down on the desk eliciting a thud.

"Whoah seriously Mike? Cause I'll do this."

"Yes, if it'll spare me an evening cornered by that injection molded Barbie doll I'll do it. What do I have to do?"

"Cool. We'll do this then. They'll call you tomorrow night to arrange details like what you want her to wear, where you'll meet, so on and so on. Mind if I borrow three hundred bucks?"

"Let me guess, for the escort?"

"Perhaps..."

"Just give me the damn number Jack."

* * *

That night after the school announcement Michael said his goodbyes to the small assembly of faculty dispersing cheap champagne in plastic ware with the excuse that he had an early morning tomorrow. They were pretty used to it by now, Michael had slipped out of every function or party the school had ever thrown, and before he found his escape he usually just sat by himself in a corner and talked to no one. He slowly walked home to his apartment enjoying the sunset and the clear weather. When he finally got to his building he took a deep breath and unlocked his door to step inside.

It was a snug modern apartment with decidedly masculine furniture all dark and angular, the carpet was colored a rich maroon and it had a lovely open floor plan with a kitchen counter complete with barstools that overlooked the living room. He had splurged on a few nice devices, a 50 inch Samsung TV he barely watched, a small laptop computer, but aside from the occasional stack of books or empty beer bottle the entire apartment was immaculate and sparsely decorated. A cleaning service came in twice a week while he was at work to tidy up and do the laundry but he never really left anything else dirty. The phone, mounted to the counter, was an old shiny black office model with a cord. He had a cell but preferred to make business calls from home when he could, he enjoyed the privacy it afforded him.

He put down his case on the granite counter and lifted himself to sit at a stool. Michael was not a man who suffered from any great anxiety but this was no normal call, he drummed his fingers on the granite and fished out the number that Jack had given him. It was a small card with raised red ink "Royalty Escorts" and the image of a champagne glass embossed on the back, it looked legitimate enough from what he could tell. "Okay, I can do this." He picked up the phone and quickly dialed. After five rings and an overcome temptation to hang up and forget the whole thing a shrill voice answered.

"Royal Escorts. How may I help you today."

"Umm... yes I was referred to you to schedule a.. date?" He tried to hide his nervousness and failed horribly when his normally deep voice cracked halfway through.

"Name of your referrer please?"

"Jack Russell"

"Ah, and how is Jack lately?" She broke into a much friendlier tone. It figures, Jack knew all the women somehow.

"He's good. His usual self. Constantly in trouble."

She giggled. "That's Jack for you. Well can we have your name and location? Oh, and the date and time of the event. Please know we are not a full service escort service sir."

"Full service?"

"Ahem, you know. No illegal activity..."

"Oh, yes. Of course. Um address is Michael Morbius, five-thirteen Opera drive, apartment D. The date will be Saturday the 6th from.. well the dinner starts at eight."

"We'll mark you down from seven-thirty onward, you work at the school with Jack?"

"Yes, and that is where the event is as well."

"Okay, Michael. It'll be one hundred and fifty per hour, we prefer cash for two hours up front with the remaining paid at the end of the date. She'll meet you at your residence and will need to check in with us twice during the evening is that okay?"

"Yes."

"Alright, this is a formal event so she will be dressed accordingly. Do you have any preferences? Like short, tall, eye color, race, hair color?"

Michael paused for a moment in thought and on a brief impulse mumbled "Blonde. I prefer blonde."


	2. The Date

"Oh god, how did I let Jack talk me into this?" Michael mumbled to himself perched on the edge of his sofa, his hands folded in his lap nervously awaiting a knock at his door. It was only ten after seven but he was holding down the same pose from the last half hour, a book he had thought of perhaps reading until she arrived just sat untouched on the glass coffee table in front of him. He had considered grabbing a light snack as he wasn't sure if he would be able to eat in strange company but the thought of the escort had banished any possibility of food. At least he had been able to get down a pastry and coffee this morning or he'd be running on an empty stomach by now.

To clear his mind he instead decided to preen, standing up tall he adjusted his posture in front of the table's reflection. He absentmindedly fondled his cufflinks one by one, they were small gold circles with stones set into them that glowed red in the light. He was particularly fond of those and had purchased them on a trip to his homeland. They accented him nicely, and though he didn't own one the rental tux fit him well and hung off of his lean frame. His hair he had trimmed to his shoulders the day prior, was now washed and slicked back with a tiny bit of gel, a light bit of cologne was slapped on his wrists. Rather than pose or try to instill any confidence in himself he just stopped to stare in abject horror at the reflection. "Perhaps if I put a bag over my face..".

_DING DING!_

He jumped from the sudden two part note of his doorbell.

"Oh god..." Somehow he managed to put one foot in front of the other enough to stand in front of his door and reach the handle. It was cold to his touch and he turned it as slowly as his sanity would let him until it clicked open under his effort.

Before him stood a thin woman with medium blonde hair and a pale blue rhinestone gown. She wore matching pumps and carried a small gold leather bag, two golden drop earrings sparkled from her earlobes. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, or at least he was convinced so.

"Michael?" She leaned to the side and gave a slight toothy smile. Good god, even her teeth sparkled. He was doomed.

"Ummm... Yes, sorry. Yes. I'm Michael Morbius." He offered her his hand cautiously.

She giggled slightly at his obvious fluster and took his hand in hers for a gentle shake. "Well Michael I'm Martine. I'll be escorting you this evening. Would you care to tell me some details of the event and your preferences?"

"My preferences..?" He began to sort out the words but the sudden realization that he hadn't even invited her in and had to look like an idiot hit him. "I'm sorry, please come inside. I've just, never hired an escort before." Now he tried to smile to cover some of his nervousness but all he could think every time he said "escort" was how he wanted to  _escort_  her to his bedroom. Morbius had never considered himself a passionate man but he now realized how dead wrong he was as images flooded his mind in torrents unbidden and he tried to clear them away to focus on the matter at hand.

She walked inside while chatting, choosing to perch on one of the bar stools as she talked. When she sat the slit in her dress came up to her thigh and was pushed taut as she folded her legs making Michael curse his thoughts again. "Well, Michael? Is it okay if I call you Michael this evening or would you prefer a pet name?"

"Michael is fine." Everything she said was a constant distraction to his efforts to maintain order.

"Michael, we generally want to give you the girlfriend treatment as naturally as possible. I just need to know about whether certain things are okay to you. For instance would you like me to be talkative or quiet? Joking or serious? Or whether physical displays of affection are okay?" At this she softly touched his waist to pull him an inch closer to her stool to illustrate. He looked like he was going to faint.

"I'm.. I'm not sure what is best. As I said this is the first time..."

"Well how do you interact with any significant others at your workplace?"

"Well, it's never really come up.." God help him, he folded his hands in front of him in an effort to distract his mind but it did no good. He had often given thought to things like this when he was dating but as relationships never worked out he just tried to put it out of his mind. Now despite the melancholy of realizing he had no experience to draw on he was fighting visions of slipping away with her to the dark back corner of a workplace party and hiking up her dress.

Before that particular thought had time to play out further he deliberately took a step back away from her with his left foot and then stomped on his own toes with his right. "Oww!"

"Are you okay?" She looked genuinely concerned.

"I'll be fine."

"Okay. How about a description of the event?" She was trying so hard to be polite but he was making her nervous.

"Well, I've won a Nobel prize and.."

"Oh my god are you kidding me!?" He jumped back at the possible angry sound but it was purely surprise. "That's fantastic! That's amazing! I mean seriously? You're the guy in the news story?!"

"The news is reporting on this?" He flinched a little internally.

"Of course they are! So that's the party? Tonight? And you'll be making the speech?" Her eyes practically glowed with excitement.

"It's not a big deal." He glanced away and rubbed the back of his head with his hand to hide his embarrassment.

"It is the biggest of deals!" She wiggled her arms in the air to illustrate her point but Michael just looked at her like he was about to run and hide. "Ahem, Sorry. Sorry. I'm not supposed to get unprofessional like that. You um... don't get out much do you?"

He gave a sideways nervous smile. "Am I that obvious?"

"Completely." She giggled a little. "It's okay, how about we play this one by ear? We have to get going anyways." She pulled a cell out of her purse and rattled off a quick text. "There. Sorry, Had to let them know I arrived and that everything is fine." She flashed him a sincere smile.

"Playing by ear sounds ideal." He was actually quite relieved. the nature of the evening would keep his thoughts in check. It was also good to get going as he did not want to be alone with her more than was absolutely necessary.

Morbius held open the door for Martine and the pair chose to make the walk to the event rather than drive. The dinner was to be held at the ESU event center, a large glass ballroom at the center of the campus perhaps a quarter of a mile from Michael's apartment. It was about seven thirty-five, and they had plenty of time to take the walk at a leisurely pace.

"So, you work for an escort service?" Michael was back to being nervous, his foot had stopped hurting and the sun was fading into a colorful and romantic sunset. They were alone besides the occasional other couple walking past them on the sidewalk.

"Yeah... it's not what I wanted to be doing. I used to model. Once you're over twenty-five though, it's not so much a career path anymore."

"As beautiful as you are I'd expect you could model forever." The minute he said it he regretted it. He was not normally the type to engage in such flattery, he began to visibly blush and tried to turn his head to hide it when she looked at him in surprise.

"You barely said five words strung together earlier!" He was alarmed but she broke out laughing and she kept him at ease. He let out a cautious laugh in reply.

"I'm sorry. I suppose I'm just a quiet person, but yes, you look quite lovely. I can't fathom why anyone would ever not want you modeling their clothes."

"Eh, I'm better off without the job. No respect, no good food."

"They control what you eat?"

"Pretty much. Did you know fried cheese tastes delicious? I didn't know for years." She accentuated every line with a giggle and her giggles were driving him quite crazy. He wasn't sure if he could resist touching her for the entire evening. He kept picturing every lurid fantasy that had been in his brain in the last twenty years, it was one hell of a backlog to run through. He was a quiet man but still a man and though he never found a way to indulge in any kind of sex he was pretty imaginative on the subject. She paused for a moment. "I haven't worked for Royal for long. I'm trying to save up for a place. My family wants to just buy me a place but I don't want to owe them."

"Well there are some lovely places around here if you just poison the right people." He chastised himself for the dark humor but she giggled and gave him a slight hug that sent the blood in his veins to a rush.

"How about you? You work as a doctor huh?"

"Well, more as a research scientist." They were coming up on the building now and for all his nervousness at being alone he was disappointed that the walk was almost over.

"So what's that like?"

"Logical and uneventful. Normally pleasant, that is if you'll believe me after this party they're saddling me with."

"You have your speech?"

He reached into his left inside breast pocket and pulled out a stack of note cards. "I have it right here."

They walked up past the valet to the double glass doors. Inside one of the science professors had been stationed at the entrance with a clipboard, it was David Garris. Michael didn't know the man well but upon walking up to him and waiting while he cleared the couple in front of them Garris sent him a knowing nod and didn't even bother asking his name. He just motioned them both through to where a young student was ready with a camera and snapped a surprise candid photo. The flash was blinding and Morbius took a moment to recover by rubbing his eyes. He was close to the thought of strangling the boy.

The kid spoke up. "So sorry about that! Peter Parker here for the Daily Bugle. You mind if I get a few more for the paper?"

Michael was about to say that he did indeed "mind" when Martine answered "No" for him and moved in close to him, grabbing his arm and positioning it around her waist for the pose. She smiled but Michael froze letting the sensation of her dress tight around her body sink into the nerves of his hand. After the first couple of shots Martine leaned in to whisper into his ear. "Don't be so tense, you're supposed to look natural with me, like we're an item." The smile that played out on his face was something between elated and tortured, but he obliged and stood straight pulling her to him. God she felt so nice but by the time he was actively enjoying the photo shoot the photographer waved them on, thanking them profusely. He proceeded to his table with the help of an usher while wearing a laughably obvious smile and slightly blushing.

The tables were large ornate circular affairs with eight seats each. The medical department chair Richard Thomas was at their table with his wife, Curt Conners was next, he worked in the same lab building as Michael, and the unfortunately placed Larry Burghouse was here seated with his obnoxious girlfriend who looked annoyed as hell to see Martine. The last chair was Emil Nikos, Michael's main lab assistant. He was a charming man who smiled beams at Martine. Michael introduced him with a great hug and a smile but most everyone else at the table sat staring at her in disbelief.

Richard broke the silence. "Michael good to see you!" The two shook hands. "And who is this with you this evening?"

Morbius snapped into focus "This is Martine." Richard took her hand and shook it, an action repeated by the rest of the table's inhabitants. Michael moved off to the right of the table to catch up with Richard and discuss the schedule for the evening while Emil scooted his chair closer to chat with Martine.

"So what kind of witch's spell have you cast over him?"

"What?"

"Sorry, my phrasing is not so good." He spoke in a much heavier accent than Michael. "Michael of course. I have never seen him smile like that in my life! I didn't even know the man could smile."

Martine gave a laugh. "Surely you're exaggerating. He's a very sweet man."

"Is he? Incredible! I swear this is literally the first time I have seen him smile in public in ten years. He looks at you like you are his sun." Emil chuckled it off but Martine stared a bit at Michael across the table. Away from her he did look more serious and he furrowed his brow as he talked. He must have sensed her stare because for a moment he looked right back at her and grinned. She smiled in silent reply but then he just went back to his previous expression with Richard as they went over details.

"Interesting."

Rachel, Larry's girl spoke up from the other side of the table. "He must really be head over heels for you." With her inflection it was less a statement and more of a question. Martine just smiled back but just then a waiter came over to take drink orders, interrupting them both. Martine ordered a bottle of a mid-range white wine. She hadn't discussed food with Michael yet and he was expected to pick up the tab but she figured a mid-range wine would avoid suspicions and wouldn't ruffle his feathers. Not that she thought anything would bother him if _she_  did it.

That was concerning. Clients were not supposed to be actually emotionally attached to the escorts but the commentary from Emil and the way he looked at her, she was going to have to have a talk with him about that when they got a moment. Of course maybe he was just a  _very_  good actor.

At that moment Morbius concluded his discussion and sat back in his chair next to Martine, he leaned over and smiled. She decided then and there to test this out so she greeted him with a loud "Hey hunny!" and pecked his cheek with a kiss. Morbius looked as though a gunshot had gone off in his vicinity. His chair tipped slightly backward and then forward as he corrected his mistake, and he turned a bright shade of beet red, quite a tone for someone so pale.

 _Troubling, very troubling._ She leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Michael can we talk a minute?"

He tipped his head over to the side. "About what erm... hunny?"

She tried to get as quiet as she thought she could without being drowned out by the four-hundred or so people talking in the room. "You know to not actually get emotionally attached to me right? What we have is a financial arrangement."

Almost immediately he stammered out the words "Yes.. of course." and glanced at her bearing the the most obvious forced smile.  _Dear god this man, anyone could read him like a book, it's like he doesn't have a dishonest bone in his body._  For some reason she found that utterly charming, probably due to the number of assholes she'd spent time with who had no problem lying to her with a straight face.

Dinner consisted of a choice of three dishes, there was duck with a butter sauce, an 8oz ribeye steak with horseradish sauce, or an Asian vegetable stir fry with tofu. She chose the duck and It was one of the best meals Martine had eaten in years. Michael picked at his steak consuming maybe half of it and his sides. He looked upset and that really bothered her, maybe she should have waited until the end of the date to clarify to him. Then again it was entirely logical that he knew and he was just nervous about the speech. She hoped that was the case.

After dinner, Richard stood and made his way up to the podium. They had a nice light setup with a mounted video monitor as well. Speakers and a couple of tech-minded volunteers stood by the wayside.

"Ladies and gentleman we have a short film for you now. We hope you'll enjoy it." There was soft applause and they dropped the house lights. The film cut to footage of a patient awaiting liver transplant, it listed her name as Rebecca, a small girl of thirteen in a hospital gown with wild red hair. She was the victim of a rare condition. She talked to the camera about who she was and where she was born and a long talk about how she used to love to dance. Martine looked over to Michael to see him slinking down into his seat nervously. Sweat had started to bead on his forehead and he looked as though he wanted to crawl under the table and escape. She grabbed his arm and squeezed his hand as they showed the video of her surgery. She was the very first patient to get one of the new transplants with the artificial valve that Morbius had designed himself. Another squeeze on his hand came with the footage of her post surgery interview.

Morbius tipped his head toward Martine to whisper. "Help. I think I'm going to pass out. I can't do this." He really did look horrible.

Martine ran her hand over his face "It'll be okay. I know it'll be rough but you're a good person who has done great things."

He looked even more flush. "I just do my job, I don't deserve this."

"No, you don't deserve to be forced up there and paraded around for bragging rights but it'll be over soon and I'll be right here when you get back okay?" For all his oddness there was a part of this man that she truly understood and admired. He didn't want the recognition or the fame, he just wanted to get on with his work.

He nodded and forced a smile at someone finally seemingly understanding him but just then a bead of sweat ran down into his eye and stung. Martine casually grabbed her napkin to dab it up and he winced but didn't turn away from her. The film ended and the house lights went up startling everyone. Richard at the podium guided the applause "And tonight we bring you the man behind the Nobel prize Michael Morbius!" Louder applause erupted as he gave a brief flick of his hand but Michael didn't dare budge from his seat. Martine panicked and stood taking Morbius' arm and pulling it up he looked confused as hell but Martine forced him up by sheer will, he rose and she walked him hand in hand up the stairs to the podium. The clapping died down and for a brief second he looked like a deer caught in the headlights but Martine reached into his breast pocket and got his note cards laying them in his hands. Some members of the crowd giggled audibly. She then gave him a hug and stepped to the side of the stage with Richard. Morbius looked down and up and then turned to Martine with a quietly mouthed "Thank you" and he then broke out into his speech. Any snickering or crowd noise finally died down as he talked.

As he read it became readily apparent that Michael Morbius was no professional speechwriter. He went into descriptive detail about other scientist's breakthroughs that had furthered his own research, about the dates on which he had gathered needed results, and about the people whose grants had made his work possible. Martine also detected the occasional word in Greek rather than English. It seems he thanked everyone in his building. He thanked Emil the most profusely of all and jokingly promised to wrap up his current project so that Emil could take some time off soon to visit his girlfriend in Greece. Emil laughed and waved towards Michael on the stage. The crowd seemed to wake up from the fifteen minutes of monotony and they laughed as well. Michael closed with a final thanks to the school and Richard saw a great opportunity to sweep in and stop him on a high note. "Michael Morbius everybody!" He patted him briefly on the shoulder as the crowd's applause rose and tapered off. Richard motioned to the seats so that Martine and Morbius could go sit down while he made a few announcements about the evening at the podium. Michael nervously took her arm again as they descended the steps.

"I think I bored them to tears."

Martine let out a short shrill laugh. "Oh c'mon it was only fifteen minutes or so of full medical jargon. I thought you did pretty well considering you looked like you might keel over beforehand."

"Thank you for that by the way. If it weren't for you I think they would have rushed me out of here in an ambulance." He smirked and they both found their seats. Emil passed Michael a beer and Michael nodded lightly and downed it in one long swig. Emil then leaned over and hugged Martine.

"Thank you, I would have never been able to get him up there." Martine smiled, Emil truly was a nice guy. Michael finished the beer and plopped the bottle back down on the table. "Sorry, that helps. I never did like wine much it tastes far too sour, the beer is much better, good liquor is best but they have no ouzo here."

Emil smiled. "Just watch your consumption or we'll have to wheel you out."

"Oh no, I'm fine now. After all I have to escort the lady home after this, I'll be sober. Just maybe buzzed enough to deal with all of the idiot questions I'm going to get for the next thirty minutes." Michael popped a breath mint in his mouth from his pocket and rose out of his chair just as Richard brought over a group of five men in suits to talk to him. "Please forgive me Martine but I will return." He leaned in and kissed her hand before walking away with the group. After he left a suave rugged man in his twenties walked over to the table with his blushing date to talk.

"Ah Jack, I was wondering where they had you seated." Emil smirked.

"Way in the damn back, could hardly see the speech for all the old fossils in silk hats ahead of me. Food was good though. How's he doing?"

"Much better than expected thanks to this young lady here." Emil motioned to Martine and Jack let out a low wolf whistle. Emil knocked him on the arm with his fist in an effort to end the offensive gesture but Jack was oblivious. "Heya, you must be from Royal!" Jack extended his hand and Martine grasped it for a polite shake. "Glad to see he actually made the call." Emil looked confused but had learned long ago never to ask questions when Jack was involved.

Jack's date wandered off to the bathroom while Martine chatted with the two men. "So you're from Greece?"

"Me and Michael both but not Jack here."

"I'm from the good ol' U S of A." Jack looked at them like it was an accomplishment worthy of sky-high trophies.

Martine tried to keep from rolling her eyes at Jack so she turned to Emil. "Are you and Michael family?" Martine was wondering if there were a long family line of science minded Grecians just waiting back home. The thought made her giggle but in truth Michael and Emil looked nothing alike. Michael was short with dark curly hair and Emil was a tall muscular man with auburn short hair and a strong jaw.

"No, I immigrated to help Michael about ten years back, we're old friends so he got me a work visa. Michael has no family left." Emil looked distraught at the thought but Jack just rested his hand on the back of Emil's chair and added "He does okay though. So it's looking like this will all rap up by eleven. You need a ride home?" He wiggled his eyebrows at Martine and Emil looked like he was going to stab Jack with a fork. "Do not harass the young lady Jack I swear you have no morals!"

Martine rolled her eyes. "Don't you have a date?"

"What tonight? No I oh! You mean Cindy?"

Emil tried very hard to hide his amusement as Jack got whacked in the head with a red sequined purse. Cindy was standing behind him. "Ow. I'm sorry baby!" But it was too late and Cindy started towards the exit with Jack in hot pursuit.

Michael drifted over to the table watching the chase in the distance. "Those two are going to get tackled by security."

Martine sipped her wine "Serves him right." She drained her glass and looked up at Michael. "He's an idiot you know."

He grinned "I am fully aware. It's about half past ten and I think I've had all the social interaction I can muster. Are you ready to go?"

"Are you sure you shouldn't stay more?"

"I couldn't bear it." He grinned and his eyes darted around the room so as to escape anyone else wanting to talk to him.

Emil smiled. "That is the Michael I know. See you on Monday?"

"As always."

Emil shook Martine's and Michael's hands and bid them good night. "You take good care of her yes?"

"I will, of course" Michael said his apologies to the rest of the table and took Martine's arm to walk her out. Rachel gave them the stink eye as they left.

The walk home was eerily quiet and very dark. There was little traffic on the way to his apartment and no pedestrians to be seen. Michael was too exhausted to talk and he was growing more weary with every step. Martine took off her pumps and carried them with her purse, choosing to walk barefoot.

"I'm going to get chewed out tomorrow by Richard for sure."

"For what?" It aggravated her that someone would chide Michael later for darting out of an situation so obviously uncomfortable for the man.

"For leaving early. I just needed to be out of there." He paused "This is all just a circus that I never asked for."

"What happens when you go to accept the award?"

He groaned. "More parties, plaques, I get paraded around like a show pony some more. Not to mention I have to go overseas to attend the ceremony and that means flying." He let out a deep sigh.

"You have anyone to go with you?"

"Emil I suppose.." He cut off when he gathered her meaning. "It would cost me a fortune to hire you for the trip but I may just do it." She giggled and hung on his side switching her shoes to the other hand.

"I'll do it for free."

Morbius showed alarm at her words "Won't that get you in trouble?!"

Truth was that she hated this job normally. There were lewd customers, bad work hours, and one instance where she had actually feared for her life, but tonight was fun. "Maybe, it's worth it though." She offered a sly smile.

When they got to the front door she put her shoes on and reminded him of the bill. She had a mini-panic attack when she realized that he had not paid half up front, it was her fault as it had slipped her mind. He assured her that it would be fine and he pulled five one-hundred dollar bills out of his wallet and put them into her clasped hands. She sent her text to the agency and they stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment.

"Well I guess this is good night." She reached up to hug him but he leaned forward and instead planted his lips on hers and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He softly pushed her lips apart with his tongue probing her mouth and gently grasped her bottom lip in his as he backed up and broke off the kiss.

"Sorry! Oh god.. I'm so sorry." She tried to grasp his arm and let him know it was okay but he just pulled it away and apologized again, grunted "Good night", and shut the door. When she shook off the disbelief and started the walk back to her car she heard a muffled wail of anguish drift through the walls.


	3. The Incident

In two weeks time Morbius was back to his old routine but he didn't feel the same. He went into his lab everyday but only worked from nine to five. He would head home and sit in his apartment from five thirty on reading, going over notes, but more than anything he would just enjoy being alone. On his counter he kept a copy of the Sunday Daily Bugle with a black and white printed photo of Martine and he inside. He didn't dare look at it. He just left it sitting, its very presence reassuring to him.

On two occasions he found himself being short tempered with Emil, he had even yelled at an intern. Then tuesday after lunch he had dropped a tray of vials on the ground and had just stood there and watched them shatter. He was frozen in place lost while one of the assistants called his name and others rushed around grabbing the bio-contamination supplies. He simply stood there and wouldn't answer.

After the vial incident Richard called him into his office and ordered him to take a week's vacation. He said it was all just "stress from the award". Michael slunk home with his will sapped and his energy drained.

* * *

All Richard's intent aside his loneliness just got worse during his vacation. Local shops and cafes were full of students coupled up and cuddling in booths or on benches. Jack even stopped to check on him once but Michael didn't want to talk so Jack left. Richard called to let him know that the school had paid for his airfare to accept the award in December. Michael simply answered with an "Okay." and hung up before he heard a reply. He was a realist, he knew that this depression was serious but he didn't want to seek out help. Instead he tried to maintain a small semblance of his routine but he got worse without his work to distract him.

_Michael Morbius was also not a man of faith but what occurred on Friday October 26th was nothing short of miraculous._

Michael finally decided to venture out for a walk and some dinner. Out of habit he headed to the cafe where he normally got breakfast every day. It was a small place converted from a 1950's street diner. The chrome exterior was beaten and worn but still shined in the evening sun, the interior had been painted a light blue with antique wooden tables and simple black metal booths. Michael slid into one of the smaller booths, took off his coat and ordered a bowl of beef stew with a beer. Across the restaurant a couple of college age girls made fun of him thinking that they were out of earshot. He just slunk lower in his seat and sipped his beer. What the hell did it matter anymore.

Across the street there was a shrill scream answered by a deep male voice yelling angrily. The girls across the room leaned over to watch the drama unfold. Fighting lovers weren't uncommon around a school filled with so many young hearts and most people just took it for entertainment. Michael sighed and turned for a look.

Martine! His Martine! She stood clutching her coat closed, a young burly guy with a buzzcut stood on the sidewalk beside her. They were screaming. He let out a short "Shit!" and slid out of his booth to run out the door.

He raced across the street with as much speed as he could rally, clopping his loafers on the cement. "What is going on here?! Is this man bothering you?!" Michael was pissed.

The man responded with a prompt "Who the fuck are you?!" but Martine turned around to face him and she showed recognition and relief in her face. "Thank god, Michael." She ran to him still clasping her coat closed." When she got to him Michael hugged her around her shoulders and looked close enough to tell that her dress strap was ripped.

"I paid $300 for a goddamn whore and she doesn't fuck!"

Michael's face flared red with rage. "She is not a fucking whore, you slimy piece of shit and if I ever hear that word come out of your mouth again I will drag you into the science lab and pour sulfuric acid down your throat!" The threat came out of his body with an animalistic growl sending two onlookers scrambling back from the scene in alarm. He continued clasping Martine safely around her shoulders close to his chest.

It was at that point that the freshman realized who he was talking to having seen him in the halls and having heard the rumors. He simply uttered a string of profanity ending with a "Fuck you both!" and slipped a few yards away back up the steps of the apartment building he had appeared from.

Michael held her out at arm's length to look her over. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?!" Michael's eye's still flared and his skin was flush. She couldn't imagine such a calm peaceful guy in such an aggressive state.

She stood with her hand clasped around her coat holding it closed. Her face was sullen. "No, I'm fine. He was just an angry idiot, and I don't have a bodyguard, and I haven't contacted the agency yet. I.. I need to call them."

"You can call them from over here." He motioned over to the cafe' and she nodded. They both crossed the street and walked into the door. Michael's trenchcoat still sat at his booth and he offered Martine his seat, covering her shoulder with his coat. She blushed "It's fine. I'm okay and I'm plenty warm." She slipped it off and pulled out her cell. Michael got the attention of the waitress who was apparently very impressed with his valiance and offered to pay his bill, he declined but insisted on a glass of water and a bowl of soup for Martine. The waitress ran to the kitchen to put in the order while the girls in the back of the room now excitedly talked in hushed whispers. When Michael again focused on Martine she was deep in conversation. "No, I'm fine. I'm with a friend, safe. Don't send anyone. I'm off for the night." She stayed silent for a minute listening and then ended with "Okay, goodbye." and hung up.

"I'm really sorry about that, I'm going to head home." She stood but Michael jumped up.

"No, you can't... I um. I ordered you some soup." Michael put his hands over hers and he looked so worried and sincere that she found herself just whispering an "Okay" and sat back down in the booth.

After a few seconds of quiet she tried to explain. "Sometimes there are stupid clients and..."

"It doesn't matter." Michael interrupted her and glanced away from her eyes. "You don't owe anyone an explanation. I don't want to see you treated that way."

So, she just muttered a "Thank you"

An awkward silent minute later the waitress smiled and brought out two bowls of stew with some buttered bread and two pieces of chocolate pie "On the house." Michael tried to argue that point but she wouldn't hear of it. He resolved to leave her a very large tip.

They both ate in near silence but at one point Martine dug into the pie with the edge of her fork and tasted it. "Oh my god this is sooo good." She smiled and crumbs flecked from her mouth.

Michael laughed in response. "I'm glad." He coughed behind his hand and decided to address the elephant in the room. "Your dress though..."

"I know. Thank god I have my coat." She continued her pillage on the piece of pie, happily scooping the cream off of the second slice.

"But he assaulted you.."

Small tears began to form at the corners of her eyes and she squeezed them shut backing away from Michael.  _Crap!_  He wasn't trying to upset her he tentatively stammered out "Never mind. I just.. I want you safe." She looked up with tears now running down her cheek.

"You don't even know me."

Michael panicked. "I'm sorry. I'm just so sorry!" He put his palms over his face to hide behind but the phrasing reminded her of the kiss when they parted. He was so sweet and he was obviously flustered.

She took her hand and ran it over his head backward feeling his hair, he peeked through his fingers to stare. "Can I come back to your apartment? I don't want to be out in public like this."

All he was able to say was a "Yes." He left two twenty dollar bills on the table and they left.


	4. The Wild Night

Michael unlocked the door and the pair walked inside. He raced about turning on the lights and showing her where things were should she need a drink or the sofa, he had no idea how to compose himself in her company. When she asked for the bathroom he led her down the hall by his bedroom and turned the light on for her nervously declaring that there were clean towels if she needed them.

While she was using the restroom he stood in the kitchen and tapped his foot impatiently.  _What was he even trying to prove? What was he thinking jumping in a fight with a woman he'd only met once and a guy twice his size and half his age?!_  The thought occurred to him that perhaps he was losing his sanity. She was making him crazy and she didn't even know it.

The door down the hall opened and the light clicked off. Martine emerged in the kitchen without her coat, clothed only in her damaged red satin dress. Michael sucked in a deep breath through his teeth at the sight. While she was in danger he had been distracted but now she was alone with him in his apartment, dressed in tight red satin that reflected off of her every curve. She turned to him holding her bundled coat. "Do you have somewhere I can set this?"

"Oh, of course. Here, I'll hang it up." He carried the bundle to a closet by the front door and put it on a wire hanger. While he was busy with that she peeked into his fridge and looked around his kitchen. Most of the cupboards were bare and the fridge held very little in the way of food. "Wow. You don't do a lot here do you?" She absent mindedly played with a tall clear bottle on the counter. The label wasn't in English and she couldn't read any of it.

"No, I mostly work." He looked up after shutting the closet door. "That's ouzo would you like a glass?"

"What is it?"

"It's alcohol from Greece, this bottle is anise flavored, like licorice.. sort of. I brought this one back from a trip about six months ago." She nodded so Michael went to the cupboard and pulled out two tumblers and a pitcher. He filled the pitcher with ice and water from the fridge door and carried everything to the counter where he uncorked the ouzo and filled each glass a quarter full of the liquor, then topped each off with iced water turning the glasses a cloudy white. Martine swirled it then sniffed the glass and winced. "Don't do that. Trust me don't smell it, just  _stin uyeia sou_ and down it goes." He tipped the glass into his open mouth and swallowed the contents leaving only the rattle of ice.

"What does that mean?"

"It means  _to your good health_." Michael emitted a "Whew! though sipping is more normal than gulping. I just really needed a drink you know?" He grinned nervously at her, his expression saying volumes about his comfort level having her here at his home. For a moment she was worried she'd made a bad decision.

She forced a smile, took a light sip, swished it around her mouth, and tried really  _really_  hard not to spit it out. It tasted like really strong sweet licorice and the alcohol was high enough proof to sting even with the added water. With some great effort she swallowed the small pittance. "That's ..interesting."

Michael poured himself a second glass. "It's a strong taste."

She let out a loud bout of laughter while covering her mouth with her hand. "That's putting it lightly!"

Seeing her laugh let Michael finally release the tension he had been holding onto and he joined her with a slight chuckle.

The next moment was a blur. Feeling insecure she threw her arms around him for a hug and held him close. He put his glass down and snaked his hands down to her waist. When she looked up into his face he closed his eyes and planted his lips on hers. He tasted like the alcohol but warm and more spiced as he slipped his tongue into her mouth and moved his hands up to cup her head so he could run his fingers through her hair. He pulled back from her suddenly in alarm.

"No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I'm just.. I know it was all just business before. I just, I don't know what to do." His breathing was so heavy he was practically panting but he stayed back from her trying to regain his composure.

She looked confused. "It's okay ..I thought maybe it was just business, but then I thought just maybe we're more than friends?" She moved forward and slid her hands over his belt using it to pull him closer. His breathing sped and he closed his eyes tight while she put her palm flat on his stomach and moved it lower over his pants feeling the bulge of his obvious erection. She looked up at him puzzled by his actions as he grabbed her hand gently in his fingers and moved it off of his groin.

He strained his voice "I.. don't mean to offend you. I'm very much interested in you. It's just.. I've never done this sort of thing before." He looked deep into her eyes and pleaded.

"You're a virgin?" She tried to keep the disbelief out of her voice as best she could but a bit still crept through and it came out sounding like a harsh accusation.

He looked so embarrassed and flushed, after a second he opened his mouth to answer and searched for the words but found none and so chose not to speak and simply nodded gently in confirmation.

She laughed at his apparent unease and kissed him on the cheek. "It's okay, I don't mind."

He nodded, the only action he could bring himself to and she led him hand in hand to the bedroom. Much to his surprise she reached into her bra and withdrew a small blue foil packet that she had gotten out of her coat in the bathroom. "Do you know how to use one of these?"

"I understand the principal and directions. I've never worn one." She nodded and assured him that she would make sure it was on correctly.

"Martine, are you sure you want to do this? I don't want you to regret this later. I mean, ..I'm not... I'm just me." He motioned with one hand over his face as though framing it then slid his palms over hers.

"Michael I want you because you're a sweet man." She grasped his hands back. "And for Crissakes you don't look horrible. Who fed you those lies?" They both laughed together and sat down on the bed, queen sized with maroon cotton sheets. Despite his attempt at self control the next minute he was wrapped around her and rolled her beneath him nudging her thighs apart so he could slide between her knees. He stared down at her longingly and hiked up her dress to her stomach as she grabbed the ends of the fabric, crossing her arms and pulling it off over her head in one fluid move. She was now only wearing a set of simple grey cotton underwear and he gasped as he saw that her panties were wet in the middle. His left hand drifted down over her body so he could move it there to feel her moisture and heat.

"Oh god Martine." She leaned up to pull her bra up and off of her and at the sight of her breasts he distractedly stopped what he was doing to place his hand over them. He moved slowly and precisely, like they were sacred, and squeezed them gently. Martine loved seeing his facial expressions which showed utter concentration on his part, and ran her fingers through his hair as he kneaded her breasts cautiously.

He looked completely entranced but she took his wrists and moved his hands off. "Now your turn."

He smiled but his nervousness was obvious as he grabbed his sweater and lifted it up off of his chest. He was nicely built with a thick trail of black curly hair down his center. Martine bit her bottom lip and motioned to his pants which he obliged. Belt first, discarded to the corner of the room. Then he kicked off his shoes and slipped off his thick cotton slacks one leg at a time. Getting impatient she leaned up and grasped the top of his white boxer briefs pulling them back over his erection and tugging them down. He stepped out of them kicking them to the side as she took a moment to admire his features. His cock was dark skinned and nicely thick with a trimmed area of curly black hair surrounding its base. She produced the foil packet from the top of the bed and opened it with a twist. He was still so nervous but when she took the condom and rolled it down his length with her hands the thinking-logical version of Michael Morbius was lost. Even her hands felt so warm and good on him, better than he could have ever imagined.

He grunted at the effort it took to hold himself back but when she gave the all clear he leaned in over her. He grabbed the edges of the panties and pulled them off with ardor. Her skin was so silky smooth and warm with a small triangle of blonde hair at her center, he grasped onto her legs and poised over her pressing against her entrance with his cock. "Now?" He managed to squeeze the word out through clenched teeth. She ran her hands over his chest and giggled out a "Yes". He pushed in just a little, it felt warm and tight around him and he let out a low moan.

He looked at her like he was in a great amount of pain. "Michael, you can take it easy if you need to." To which he replied only by nodding slightly. She rose up a little and pushed him deeper and he responded in kind, pushing in forcibly until he couldn't go any further into her causing her to gasp.

She was everything he'd ever imagined and he took this moment to utter a silent prayer and draw in an effortful breath "Dear god Martine, how can I go easy when it feels this good? This will kill me." He bent in and gave her another deep passionate kiss, he still tasted lightly of licorice and alcohol.

As he pulled out a bit and thrust in again Martine wrapped her legs around his waist for stability. "It's okay if the first time is short, that's how it normally goes." She smiled right into his eyes and he began thrusting steadily, slowly and deeply at first while muttering under his breath with each move. He bent down to nibble at her breasts causing her to squirm beneath him. Oh god, she was right, he wasn't going to last long like this. The tightness in his chest turned into a pressure in his head that built to a peak. When it felt like he would surely break he thrusted wildly into her and she let out a long deep moan in response. That was it, when he heard that he let out a very loud "Na pari i eychi!" and pushed in as deeply as he could manage while he pumped himself into her. The exhausted man collapsed on her, laying pressed hot and feverish against her skin. She wrapped her arms around the back of his chest, tight against him after releasing her hold on his waist. She stroked his back and whispered gentle reassurances into his ear while he caught his breath. It was a full minute before he could move again.

"I'm sorry." He finally stirred raising himself up again and pulling out of her.

She giggled at him. "What did you say a minute ago?"

"I shouted  _goddamn it,_  I'm sorry I still say some things in Greek involuntarily when I'm mad or..."

"Don't worry about it."

He rolled over on the bed beside her onto his back and closed his eyes as she carefully removed the condom from his member, despite his flinching, and tossed it in the wastebasket nearby. When she laid back down on the bed his breathing was slowing and he grasped her around her waist and pulled her close. She snuggled up under his neck and the two fell asleep wrapped together, exhausted on the bed, without muttering another word.


	5. The Sudden Exit

When Martine awoke light was coming in from between the deep gray window blinds making the room glow in a slatted pattern. She was alone on the bed with no sign of Michael anywhere. Good, maybe she could make a run for it. She had no idea what she was thinking last night doing things with a man she barely knew, and here she was waking up naked in his bed. She tiptoed to the doorway and glanced out while being careful to stay hidden. No sign of him anywhere and the bathroom was right there at the end of the hall so she went in to clean herself up. There were fresh towels on the rack by the sink and she took one down to dab it in the tap water. He had also left out a bar of soap in a dish and she used that to build some suds and clean her face. It was a small bathroom but complete with a shower with bottles of men's shampoo and Old Spice body wash nearby. Despite her better judgment she decided that it would be pleasant to be completely clean before she wiggled back into her clothes so she started up the shower and began to let the warm water wash over her.

Michael walked in the door whistling and carrying two large brown bags. He tossed his keys carelessly on the counter while setting the sacks down delicately. He unpacked the contents of the first one in an orderly fashion. Orange juice, Greek yogurt, chocolate iced donuts, ripe blueberries, fresh bread, and honey, were now arranged artfully around the kitchen. The second bag he left packed for now. In the background he noticed the sound of water running from down the hall, Martine must be awake and cleaning up. It was a relief seeing that she hadn't fled, he was afraid she would be gone. He busied himself by pulling out cups and plates, spoons and forks and anything else he thought they'd need. When he heard the pipes squeak, a sign of the water halting, he grabbed the second bag and hurried down the hall.

Martine emerged from the bathroom wearing only a wrapped white towel to immediately face Michael. She gasped and stepped back involuntarily. "Oh god, I'm sorry, you surprised me!"

"I apologize, it was not my intention."

"I know." She looked up at him and he was pouting slightly. "look, about last night.."

"Yes?"

"I.. I shouldn't have come here." He looked extremely wounded by her words.

"No, I suppose not." He shielded his eyes from her gaze. "Before you leave I brought you breakfast and these." He said while holding the paper bag out towards her. She took it, inside was a brand new sweater in purple and a long silk skirt in beige. "I checked your dress for a size but women's clothing is odd and I didn't know what would fit you so a skirt was easier to size than a new dress. There's some um.. other things in there too." She dug further to find a pair of purple cotton panties in her size.

"Oh. Thank you." He watched her closely but she just seemed kind of stunned and didn't react. "I'll just, get dressed now okay?"

Michael just stood there empty handed and mumbled out a "Yes." while she slipped back into the bedroom and closed the door.

When she emerged fully clothed in the new outfit Michael had disappeared again, to the kitchen she guessed. Confirmation came when she heard glasses clinking together down the hall. The clothes fit her well, the sweater was a bit baggy, and the skirt a bit loose but they would function until she got home. The torn dress and her dirty underwear she tossed into the now empty paper bag and folded the top over.

Michael was busy arranging doughnuts and fruit on a plate when she came into the kitchen. He didn't choose to say anything, simply pointed to all of the laid out food but she shook her head from side to side. "No. I need to get going."

He wanted to scream and to plead with her not to leave but instead he hesitantly went to the closet to fetch her coat and even held it out for her as she guided in one arm after another, finally buttoning it and nodding to him while she went to the front door and slipped outside. He was left standing, staring where she had made her exit. She didn't even say goodbye.

He threw the food away.

* * *

Sunday passed without word or event. Monday Michael returned to work only to walk in the door and have Emil greet him with "You look like hell!" It was true Michael reeked of stress, his eyes sunken and his expression dead.

Before Richard could see him like this Emil ushered Michael with him down the hall to his office to tell him what had happened. The two closed the door and he sat and relayed the entire story to Emil: Jack and the escort service, the argument by the diner and his interference, and her night at his apartment leaving out some great amount of lurid detail. When he was done he simply laid his head down onto his arms on the cold marble desk. "I just want to know why. Why would she leave like that?"

"Maybe she had places to be? Maybe she could get in a lot of trouble with her agency for what she did?"

He tilted his head over to lay on his left side on the desk and look up at Emil. "Maybe she just recognizes that she did something really idiotic."

"Nonsense." Emil looked around. "Look, you stay here, Richard shouldn't see you like this today. I'll go get you a drink. How about some coffee?"

"Liquor,  _strong liquor."_

Emil gave him a stern look of disapproval and shut the office door behind him.

* * *

Across town Jack's cell started ringing, alerting him to the fact that it was daytime and normal people were awake at this hour. He laid in stubborn silence convinced he could simply stomach the noise for three long rings before groaning and stretching across the bed to his night stand to retrieve the cell.

"Hello? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Goddamn it Jack, it is nine thirty!" It was Emil Nikos, Michael's lab partner and he sounded pissed.

"Hey howdyu get this number?"

"I took it from Michael's cell."

"What the hell is the matter with you?!"

"Shut your mouth. I need you to call up that escort service and get someone's contact info."

"Ooooooh no. That is a big no can do!"

"Jack I will find you and..."

"Dude it is way too early for threats. What the hell do you need anyway?"

"Michael got walked out on by his escort and he wants to know how to contact her. Her name was Martine, same girl from earlier this month."

"Wait she walked out on him earlier this month?

"No she spent the night with him Friday and he.."

"Whoah! I didn't know he had it in him! Hot damn!"

"Jack." Emil struggled to contain his anger. "Just get down here. We're at Michael's office."

"Okay, okay. I'll be there in thirty."

True to his word, Jack arrived about twenty-five minutes later looking poorly slopped together in jeans, a plaid shirt, and unshaven face. The pair rushed along into the office where Michael still sat, his shoulders and head puddled on the desk. They all went over the details but Michael obviously weary of being the pitied party yelled at them all to leave. When he locked them out and thought they had left only then did he slump in his chair and cry.

* * *

Emil and Jack hid from the occasional passerby inside classroom two hundred and three while Jack dialed his cell. A shrill female voice answered after three rings "Royal Escorts, how may I help you today?"

"Susie, baby!"

"Jack! What are you calling for? "

"Hey, my friend Michael had a date on Saturday the sixth and I need that girl's info."

"Jack hun, I'd be sued into oblivion if I gave out any kind of info."

"Anything please? He's the shyest guy and he's head over heels for her.."

"She doesn't even work here anymore."

"What?!"

"Yeah, she quit Saturday night. Left us hanging with an appointment."

"Dammit. Anything else babe? The tiniest thing would be great."

"I'm sorry hun, there's nothing I can do.  _Martine Bancroft_  no longer works here." She gave a little cough on the other end of the line.

"You're the best babe!"

"I know I am."


	6. The Friends

There were sixteen Martine or M. Bancrofts in the area. Using a few search engines Emil weeded out the men and the age groups that were improbable, narrowing it down to three possibilities. The first number they called was dead. The second, a female voice picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Martine Bancroft speaking?"

"This is she."

"Martine Bancroft Michael Morbius's companion from the Sunday the seventh edition of the Daily Bugle?"

"Who is this?!"

He offered a bit of praise to no deity in particular. "Don't hang up. This is his friend Jack!"

"I already told you I'm not going out with you, you're a sleazeball! And how the hell did you get this number!?"

"I am totally a sleazeball, but Mike's nice right? I mean.. he's nothing to look at, sure..." Emil elbowed him hard mid-sentence. "But he's a sweet guy right?"

"I am hanging up now."

"No wait! Please! Michael doesn't know I've called but he looks like he's been through hell and he's just given up on life and it would really help if you'd just stop by and see him. He just wants to talk. That's all I want! Just please see him ..." The receiver made a long disconnect noise and jack brought the phone down from his ear and snapped it closed.

"Did it work? Will she talk to him?"

"I don't know she hung up on me."

Emil patted him gently on the shoulder. "You're a good man Jack. At least we tried."

Jack just responded with a slow "Yeah.. we tried."

"Best to go take care of Michael."

But when they both got back to the office Morbius was gone.

* * *

It was noon the next day and Michael sat on his couch at home, he could think of nothing else to do. He ran off from his job yesterday, today he took the day off sick, something he hadn't done in years. He couldn't find the motivation to work, in his perspective he had reached the pinnacle of his career. His finances were straight, if he wanted to he could retire at thirty-six and live comfortably in this apartment until his eventual death of old age. Alone. With that thought he rattled the cloudy glass of ice and liquor and brought it up for a long swig. It was cool and comforting and reminded him of home, as had the previous three glasses. Even though he had never actually drank it when he lived in Greece he always had it when he traveled there. It was only recently that he started just keeping a bottle in the house, now it was looking like he'd polish this one off in one night.

DING DING!

He stood up in a quest to answer the door but the sudden gravity shift and the realization that he had consumed almost four full tumblers of ouzo made him wobble and grasp the side of the sofa for stability. He tried get his feet in working order but they were resistant to his efforts. A minute of stabilizing later and he wagered he could successfully stagger. He opened the door to view surprisingly a very miffed looking Martine. Upon seeing him her expression softened.

"Oh my god, you do look like shit."

"Gee thanks." Michael hadn't bothered to shave his face or trim his goatee in three days and his jawline was covered with a thick layer of stubble, he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was an untamed mess. There was a palpable silence for a minute after that while they both just stared at each other in evaluation. Michael finally broke it. "Why did you leave? ..what did I do wrong? Whatever I did I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong, it's not you it's me."

"Do not spoonfeed me that line!" For once he looked genuinely hostile. "I have heard that line before and it is one hundred percent never not  _me_! So I ask you again, what did I do wrong?!"

He expected her to retaliate with insults or to flee but she did the one thing he hadn't planned for, she broke down into tears, sobbing but still trying to get words out. He cussed again and ushered her inside. He filled the palpable silence himself. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm not angry at you, I could never be angry at you, you just left and I didn't know how to find you and I had never made love with a woman before in my life, let alone woken up next to anyone the next morning, and you just ran out and I panicked and I don't even know your full name!"

He was speaking in a plea now, he just wanted her to stop crying. She sat on a barstool while Michael fetched her a glass of ice water as best he could, he was still inebriated from the ouzo but he managed to get a tall glass of water in front of Martine as well as a clean towel to dry her eyes with.

"I don't know. I just.. I quit my job after I left Saturday and that was the third job I'd been through but it was the fifth time I had an asshole client in as many weeks and I'm losing my apartment and I just used you to distract myself and I know that you're a nice guy and you deserve better than that!" She dabbed at her tears with the dry towel and he just wrapped his arms around her and held her until she stopped crying.

"I have a pull-out sofa, it turns into a bed of sorts." She pulled back a little stunned. "I also have a spare room where you can keep your things, it's not huge but it will hold a lot."

"Why are you offering this? I don't have any money, I'm not going to sleep with you for a place to stay."

"I just want you to be safe. That's all I want." She stared up at him in disbelief. "And honestly I get so fucking lonely here. You have no idea how much I'm alone." He hugged her good and tight again and inhaled a large breath of the scent of her shampoo. "And I love you."

She smelled the alcohol and anise on his breath. "Fuck, you're drunk! It's not even one O'clock!"

"Perhaps, but I still want you to stay with me. You won't even get sick of me I'm gone most of the day all week long, you'll barely see me. I barely make a peep. Peep." At the last part he giggled slightly.

"Okaaay.. I'll think about it when you're sober. Let's get you to your bed."

She guided him down the hall and he climbed into bed still mumbling. "You're beautiful.. and you're kind and I love you so much."

She smiled and pulled the blankets up over him as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the need for sleep.

* * *

Michael awoke to darkness at eight forty-seven. He was alone in his bed and his head pounded in pain. He headed into the bathroom but hissed at the bathroom light's sudden brightness and held his head with his hands to block out as much as he could.

"Hey you. I thought I heard you get up. Here take this." Martine carried a glass of water and two pills down the hall to him.

"What is it?"

"It's Motrin, take it. It'll help your head. I also turned off your lights and fixed you a snack. You've been asleep all day."

He took the pills in his fist and threw them down the back of his throat gagging when one got caught. He followed them down with a large gulp of water. "Thank you."

"You invited me to stay with you." She seemed cautious.

"Did I now? And you didn't run from here?"

"I figured that you were drunk."

"I was but not so badly that I do not mean what I say.. that is I didn't say anything embarrassing did I?"

She lied. "Nothing at all."

"Then you'll stay with me?"

She bit her lip in panic, he was truly way too sweet for his own good. "Okay, but we're just friends alright?"

"I'll admit it isn't my preference but as long as you're happy." He took her hand in his and gave it a kiss. "We should move you in immediately."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."


	7. The Proposal

She was moved in within the week but Michael insisted she take the bed and he take the couch every night. The spare room was loaded full of her furniture and knick knacks, and the bathroom now crowded with makeup and new soaps. Michael finally found a reason to stock his fridge though neither of them cooked they at least kept snacks on hand.

In short order they formed a new routine. Every morning Michael would rise for work and catch his shower before Martine woke, he would dress and Martine would be awake by then and somewhat dressed. They'd both have a light breakfast together at the cafe' and then part ways. He'd head home at five and they'd order a dinner from somewhere nearby and watch a movie together while they ate. She had surprisingly diverse tastes and they watched many foreign films as well as the latest drama and horror. He made sure that she had an extra key so she could come and go as she pleased.

At work Michael was productive and pleasant. It was to the point where people spread new rumors about the sudden shift in attitude. He shared updates on his new resident with Jack and Emil, who were, in all fairness, the only people there he cared about anyways.

* * *

Friday the sixteenth of November Martine brought him a packed picnic lunch for them to eat together as a surprise. They sat in his office and enjoyed the sandwiches and sodas.

She smiled while inhaling a bite of tomato and salami "So, while I'm here want to give me the tour?"

"Ah, the grand tour? Certainly madam!" He laughed and finished his ham on wheat toast. "Where to first?"

"Oh, I don't know. Wherever is interesting."

"How about I show you some of the art student's work? There is an exhibition right now." He rose and offered her his arm gallantly which she took for leverage to stand.

The art building was a square structure with a gallery constructed of UV tinted glass. The work on display was varied but Martine loved this one figure sculpture in particular. It was made of pink baked clay and was a girl with flowers growing all over her skin. Michael didn't see the appeal and chose instead to watch his companion and her glowing expression as she darted about the gallery admiring the art. Afterwards Michael showed her some of the outdoor sculptures and the walk where all of the student organizations posted their bulletins. The walls there were covered with colorful flyers. He ended the tour at his lab, where he was running some simple tests for other staff. The room was vacant, bathed by neon lighting, and noisy machines stood at all corners.

"So, this is where the magic happens?"

"The small, not really dangerous magic I suppose. The surgeries take place in the medical building and we have some labs that are zero contamination and I can't take you there." He walked over to a whirring machine and pushed a button, it stopped a spinning tub in the middle of its surface and he inspected some vials inside. "Darn, not done yet." He replaced everything and set it as it was.

"Was that blood?"

"Yes, some samples from a patient with a rare blood disease. We're separating the plasma in a centrifuge." He smiled.

She moved to the side to lean and survey the room but Michael swooped in and scooped her around the waist with his arm.

"Hey, what's the big deal!?"

He pointed to the machine she was standing by. "If you tap this button here by accident then these samples will thaw and we'll have to discard them."

"Oh, sorry. Umm... your arm?" He was still standing with his arm around her hips and when she drew attention to it he turned crimson red and released her.

"Of course, my apologies." His thoughts had been racing since he had first seen her at lunch. He loved having her around but the temptation to touch her and feel her skin against his was all encompassing. When she was in the shower he thought of her naked and covered in soap, when she slept he dreamt of her in pajamas sleeping on his sheets, the time she had brought home a container of popsicles and proceeded to eat one in front of him he had to excuse himself from the room immediately. It was torture, and though a lot of his thoughts were indecent mostly what he found himself wanting was to simply sleep by her side at night.

His forehead developed a sheen of sweat and he tried to usher her home. "Okay, it's been over an hour now. I need to wrap up these results before I can go home."

"Oh, of course. I'll just see you later?"

"Yes, sure." He waved lightly and she backed out the door "Bye for now."

He checked that she was out of view, and breathed a sigh of relief. It took a half-hour's worth of busying himself with data collection before his erection went down. As happy as he was this arrangement was sapping his will to resist, sooner or later he'd give in to temptation and try to kiss her again. She held a strong sway over him but he wouldn't admit the obvious to himself, that he loved her. She was to him the perfect woman, and he'd kill for one more night holding her but she had said her piece and he wanted so badly to respect her wishes. If this was the only way to be near her then so be it.

* * *

December was approaching fast including the big ceremony in Stockholm Sweden to accept his Nobel prize. The school had only afforded him one plane ticket but he paid for Martine's out of pocket and they both took time preparing. He had to buy a specially tailored tailcoat in white with matching tie, shirt, collar, shoes, handkerchief, waistcoat and trousers. All required attire for the ceremony. When Martine saw him for the first time in the full outfit she burst out laughing at his expression which she described as "Looking like a cat in a bath".

It was much easier preparation for her. They drove to Barney's of New York and she tried on gowns for three hours. She finally settled on a long white satin gown with a lace shawl. When she asked what it cost Michael shushed her insisting that it didn't matter. It was three thousand dollars. He refused to tell her for a week.

The tension leading up to the trip was sometimes palpable. Michael had a hotel room paid for but he wasn't sure that they could do a double bed, it was too late to make the switch. He had learned that they expected white or silver cufflinks and he grumbled about leaving his gold ones behind. The next day Martine presented him with a ten dollar pair from a local department store. They were silver plated little M's, he treasured them and kissed her on the cheek in gratitude, much to her surprise. It had seemed like he had done everything possible to avoid contact with her as of late. There was the usual amount of embarrassment and apologies from him but she had blushed just as hard as he had at the kiss. In yet another incident hey helped each other pack and he was helping her fold her pajamas when her lacy underwear had fallen out of her luggage. He hurriedly scooped them away and shoved them back into the pocket they came from but he seemed very distant for about an hour. All in all she was dropping hints with a steadily decreasing amount of subtlety, waiting for Michael to make a move but he didn't want to violate their friendship and send her running. They were at a standoff.

The final morning before the the flight Michael locked up the apartment. They both wheeled their suitcases to the taxi and rode out to the airport to catch their nine hour long flight. There were the usual drawbacks like security and passports but the airline was happily able to rearrange the seating for them both to sit together and they caught a nap leaned up against each other over the Atlantic. When they woke they both tried to play it off as a matter of convenience. However much he apologized though she always saw that same clear as day expression on his face. That man was an open book and he obviously loved her. She was regretting more and more her insistence that they remain friends but stubbornly refused to bring it up.

* * *

The hotel was huge and beautiful, the best he had ever seen, with historical sculptures in plaster adorning every wall and a grand balcony in white sparkling marble overlooking the courtyard. The bed was a large king sized affair with an ornate wooden headboard and quilted velvet blankets. They put off deciding about sleeping arrangements long enough for Michael to catch a shower, after being on the plane for nine hours in close proximity to Martine he needed one badly. He had just started the water and disrobed when he heard Martine yell. He jumped out of the bathroom and into the main room as fast as he could only grabbing a towel to cover his front. "What is it?! Are you okay?!"

"Oh... I'm fine. I just, you're in the hotel announcements for the Nobel prizes and..." She blushed badly upon seeing him.

He realized his stupidity and stretched the towel out to cover his whole waist rather than just his genitals. "You scared me, I thought you were hurt!"

"I'm okay."

He ran his hand through his hair and paced to the side finally deciding to head back into the bathroom. Martine walked cautiously up to the door and upon finding it unlocked she lightly pushed it open just an inch to see inside.

The door swung open suddenly and she found herself staring face to face with Michael still wearing the towel. "Martine, what are you doing?"

"I want to talk to you."

"Okay, so talk."

"I'm sorry about what happened before, you know, in October."

"Elaborate." He seemed stern and emotionless for once, it was very unlike him and unnerved her.

She took a deep breath. "Okay so maybe I was feeling insecure after the attack and the fact that you were okay with not having sex with me and saw me as a person was attractive but then we fucked and I just felt like I might have ruined it."

He stood staring.

"And there's something you don't know. When.. when you were drunk you said you loved me... twice, and it scared me a bit because you barely knew me."

His eyes opened wide in alarm. "I said that?! Twice?! Oh god, why didn't you say something to me?!"

"Yes you did, I'm sorry I kept it to myself it's just.." she gazed up at him expectantly. "If it's true then why haven't you made a pass at me?"

"You said we were just friends Martine..." He was panicking again, how could he have been so forward? Why didn't she say something?! It's been more than a month!

"I know, I was just afraid I had messed everything up with sex."

"How could sex mess anything up? You showed me things I've never gotten to experience before. I'm grateful for that." He took her hand gently and kissed the tips of her fingers.

She leaned in for a hug and he wrapped both arms gratefully around her letting go of his towel. It promptly came loose from his waist and dropped to the floor.

"Ummm, Michael?"

"I know. I'm sorry about that, it's part of the effect that you have on me." He moved to break the hug but instead Martine slid down to her knees and grasped his shaft.

"Oh god, Martine are you sure?" He sucked in a breath and looked to make sure he had closed the door to the room. "Please, I don't want you doing anything you're uncomfortable with."

She just nodded and ran her tongue along his tip making him shake.

"Bed, please.. Oh god."

They both crossed the room and reclined on the plush blankets. She pushed him to his back and fondled his balls with her hand while she teased his tip with her tongue.

"Martine, I don't have protection."

"That's okay, just lay back." She forced his length into her mouth and down her throat.

"Fuck!" He shook lightly.

"You're so sensitive." She smiled up at him and gave him a squeeze causing another tremor and a bead of moisture to form at his tip. She used her fingers to smooth it over him and stroke him gently.

"Please." He mumbled out. "I've waited long enough, I want to be able to touch you."

She pulled up her silk blouse over her shoulders and discarded it to the bedside. The linen skirt was easy, she just pulled the zipper and off it came. He saw that she was wearing the purple cotton underwear he had bought her. He touched them reverently and slipped his finger in past the fabric. She continued stroking his length while he found her entrance and slipped one finger through the warm wetness inside her. Martine gasped and squeezed him harder, he slid a second finger in like the first and began to rub her clit with his thumb. She spasmed and muttered his name which only encouraged him further. He rolled her complacently onto her back and pulled her panties past her knees and down off of the bed.

Now exposed he pushed her legs apart and lowered his head to her entrance. The first lick came rough and heavy right over her clitoris causing her to arch under him. He adjusted one arm to hold himself up on his elbow so he could cup the small of her back with the other. He used his newfound leverage to lick her hard, running his tongue everywhere. with his leverage arm he took his thumb to insert it into her and rub the bottom of her labia.

"Does that feel good?" He asked in a purely clinical fashion.

"Oh god.. yes. Yes."

"How about this?" He stroked back and forth on her clit speedily and firmly.

"Oh god, Michael! Michael.." Her voice drifted off into a purr.

He continued the pattern with his tongue and varied the rhythm with his hand. "How about you come for me?" When she looked down he glanced up for a moment with a sly smile she hardly could recognize as his and then continued his work until she felt like she was going to explode. When she came he slowed the pace through her gasping and full body twitches relishing the pulsing sensation around his fingers. He stopped and slid up to her on the bed resting on his other elbow.

"How the hell did you learn to do that? I thought you were a virgin."

"I am also a medical school graduate and I know where every nerve in your body is coiled and waiting for stimulation." There was that smile again.

She huffed "You know I had you pegged for a socially awkward introvert when I met you but I was obviously wrong."

"I am for the most part. I only smile when you're around."

"Emil said something to that effect when I met him."

He curled his hands around Martine's neck and snuggled against her. "Marry me."

She sat bolt upright. "What?!"

He looked at her dead serious with a furrowed brow. "You heard me."

"You have got to be kidding me! That's not how you propose to someone and we've only known each other for two, maybe three, months! Are you insane?!" He interrupted her by scrambling off the bed and getting down naked on one knee.

"Is this better? I love you, make me the luckiest man to ever exist."

She looked deep into his eyes as he still knelt in front of her. "Michael, you can't build a marriage on sex!"

"As I know. In a month we've talked together and ate together and lived together yet barely touched. Believe me that was more than rough."

She gave him a cynical glare so he held his hand up in pause and sucked it a deep breath. "I know you love cherry flavored anything, you adore detective movies and daytime soaps, when you eat pie you close both of your eyes in an adorable squint and you hate cacti because you got pricked badly by one when you were ten years old and your aunt teased you about it for weeks." He smiled in between breaths "Your family is rich in Connecticut and raised you as an out and about society girl but you weren't happy being just decoration for some vacant guy they tried to set you up with so you fled and modeled because that paid the bills, but you hated the shallowness of it all and that's why you're constantly shifting locations and jobs because you want someone to love you for your cactus-fearing, cherry-eating, singing disco in the shower, self. Yes, I can hear you when I'm out in the hall." He stared longingly at her. "I truly love you. Please."

She gasped, all that was true. Every whispered secret, every bit of dialogue he had been paying attention to in an effort to get to know her and all she knew of him was...

"You'd sooner die than have to go to an office party, and you only have a few close friends. You over analyze everything to a fault but you aren't cold, you actually care way too much or you wouldn't have spent your life saving lives without giving a second thought to yourself to the point of being middle-aged and alone."

He looked broken-hearted at her analyses until she leaned in and whispered "Yes. Of course I'll marry you."


	8. Of the Blood

Michael dressed up in the full regalia requested for the ceremony but he couldn't even focus enough to be uncomfortable in it. Martine walked with him hand in hand to receive the medal and the certificate, a photographer snapped a photo of the pair together at just that moment. He looked practically glowing in it, he hardly recognized himself. At the banquet they both played with their food and vowed to find a suitable ring as soon as possible. She nudged his leg under the table and he blushed. At one point he fed her a bite of tart by hand and he bent to whisper "I love you" into her ear.

Back at the hotel they enjoyed their night alone together. Pieces of Michael's tailored coat lay strewn about the floor, the covers lumped crudely in a pile by the bed.

He first had her on top staring into her eyes the entire time while she rode him. When he brought her off she finished the blow job from the other night. He was rock hard still and her mouth felt so tight encircling him that he didn't think he'd last a minute. He managed to hold off his orgasm for at least a quarter-hour when she finally set him off and rubbed him with her tongue during his climax. She had to find a towel to spit into while he laid, comatose and grinning, on the bed.

Martine giggled suddenly. "I guess this means you'll need to meet my family."

"I can deal with that."

"They're going to ask you a ton of questions about why they haven't met you before."

"I can deal with that."

"And you can't say anything about me working as an escort!"

"I will say that you floated down from heaven and landed in my living room." He fluttered his hand in the air to emphasize his words.

She rolled her eyes, "Michael I'm serious."

"I know. It will be okay. First thing will be the ring, next will be the setting the date. Then we will contact your family."

She snuggled her legs under the sheets. "Sounds good. What time is our flight again?"

"Eight-thirty AM unfortunately"

"Aaargh, too early." It was already two AM.

He planted a kiss on her forehead. "I agree wholeheartedly. We need to sleep."

She snuggled under his arm and yawned "Sleep sounds nice."

They both laid there drifting off until about four AM when Michael awoke with a headache and got up long enough to down two aspirin. In the light of the bathroom mirror he saw a bruise on his right arm but thought nothing of it. He clicked off the light and returned to the warm bed to cuddle around Martine and get some more rest. It was all he'd ever wanted and he relished it with abandon.

In the morning they rushed around getting packed. The alarm had gone off twenty minutes late and they needed to get to the airport.

"Michael where is my bra from last night?"

"It is on the dresser over there." He pointed with one arm as he picked up his sweater. He had at least so far managed to press all the pieces of his suit and fit them in his suitcase. He had on his pants but they were unzipped at the fly.

"Your barn door is open."

"My what?!"

She gestured to his groin and he chuckled while he zipped himself up. The sweater fit over his head with ease and he slid both arms through the holes.

"What's that on your arm?"

"Just a bruise."

"Well what did you bang your arm on?"

"I'm not sure. I assumed I had done it last night when we were against the wall... you know, before I carried you to the bed."

"Does it hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. Besides we are going to be late if we don't leave now. I can take aspirin on the plane if I need to."

She grasped his arm and rolled up his sleeve. He winced betraying his claims that it didn't hurt. It was a deep purplish blue and unnervingly large. Grapefruit large. "I want you to have it looked at."

It was much bigger than he remembered from last night but Michael brushed it off. "Martine, I'm a doctor. I'm fine." He smiled to illustrate his point and she glowered at him. "But, I'll have it looked at when we get home if it will comfort you."

"You promise?"

"I solemnly swear."

The flight was ten hours this time but they both had a lot of sleep to catch up on and they rested most of the way back, pausing to enjoy the in-flight movie while holding hands. When they landed they loaded up the rental car with luggage and headed to Michael's apartment. Their apartment. In his mailbox was a package, sent one-day express, a diamond ring in size seven that he had ordered online using his cell after Martine had said yes and had drifted off to sleep. He clutched the package in his hand and opened the door. He'd save it for the right moment as a surprise. In his eyes she was perfect and she deserved the best. He had all the time in the world to give it to her.

* * *

The next day at the lab Emil stood unwrapping some vials from their plastic shielding.

"Michael I need to see your arm."

"Emil, I already showed you the bruise."

"The other arm, I need to draw blood Michael." Emil rolled his eyes at his colleague. For all of Michael's medical background he hated having his own blood drawn. Doctors truly do make the worst patients.

Michael heaved an overdramatic sigh and rolled up his other sleeve. Emil took a clear plastic tube and winded it around the upper bicep pulling it tight and tying it. He picked up the wrapped lancet and peeled off the wrapping.

"So when are you two getting hitched?" Emil slyly smiled as he spoke.

"We're thinking summERRR!" Emil jabbed the needle in his arm and hooked up the first vial. Michael rubbed his forehead with his other palm. "You know I always suspected you were a sadist."

"Quit your complaining." He switched the full vial for an empty one and capped it. "You know you have no room to complain, beautiful fiancé and awards left and right. You hear they're running a Sixty Minutes story on you?"

"Funny, I thought I declined that interview." Emil pulled out the lancet and handed Michael a wad of cotton for the hole.

"I think they want a nice fluff piece for after the Spider-man story."

"Another story about that guy?"

"He's all the rage right now."

"Bah, heroes." Michael held the cotton down tight on his arm. "Speaking of the wedding though, you know I want you to be my best man?"

"Why Michael I am honored!" He had a flat affect to his voice.

"Honored and completely unsurprised it would seem."

"Well it was probably me or Jack and can you imagine the bachelor party that man would throw you? You'd be naked tied up in a car trunk by night's end!"

They both had a good laugh at that while Emil prepared a slide with the blood sample and slid it under the microscope.

"I think my arm has finally stopped bleeding. Next time I'll get one of the nurses to do it." He lifted the cotton and threw it in the garbage. Emil didn't respond so Michael went to fetch a Band-Aid from the desk drawer. After he had applied it Emil was preparing a second slide and adding a stain to it.

"Emil? Emil did the first one clot? Do you need some anticoagulant?"

Emil stood still looking into the microscope and adjusting the focus.

"Michael.. I'm going to need a tissue sample."

"What?! What is it? Do you need full tissue cells? I can do a swab."

"No, I'm going to need a bone marrow sample. We need to go to the med lab."

"Emil? What is it?" At this point Michael was breaking out in a cold sweat. Emil looked like he had seen a ghost.

"I don't want to panic you, it's probably nothing. I just want to get a tissue sample and I'll run it tonight while you're gone." Emil fished two pills out of a bottle from his bag and handed them to Michael. "Take these."

Michael tossed them straight down his throat and gulped.

"We'll head to the other lab, give those a few minutes to kick in, and we'll get the sample." Emil pulled out a large needle and two jars and put them in his briefcase. "Come now, quickly."

The two started to walk but after getting off of the third story elevator he started to feel as though his limbs were too heavy to move. Emil made him stay and went into the first room to borrow a wheelchair, he hurried back and commanded Michael to sit.

"Emil what did you give me?" He giggled a bit at the situation.

"Valium. So you won't fight me."

"That makes sense.. I'm still fine though." With that his head slunk to his shoulder and Emil didn't waste any time speeding him to the lab to do the tests.

When Michael awoke he was laying up in one of the vacant beds in room three-o-four and it was a chore to be able to move himself upright. He discovered he was also shirtless and had a small gauze bandage stuck on his chest. If Emil was here he'd strangle him, wait where is he? Michael thought about trying to make the walk to the lab next door but the drug was still heavy in his system. The clock tower on campus chimed six, he was late getting home, Martine would worry.

"Michael you're awake?" Emil walked in the door with a stack of papers. "I need you to look at these."

He looked scared, rather than react Michael motioned his hand to come near and took the papers from him. He sat for a good five minutes in quiet desperation reading them. His white blood cell count was far too low, the test had found mutated cells in his marrow similar to a strange form of leukemia the pair had been studying. Other numbers didn't add up to anywhere near their normal levels. Michael let the papers fall from his hands and drift to the floor.

"I have maybe five, six months tops. I won't make it to summer." He just stared and muttered, his voice wavered slightly.

"We have to fight this Michael! You're already working on this research. We can fix this. We can find a cure."

Michael sat at the edge of the bed and laid his head into his hands distraught. Emil, I'm done for. This is a near unknown mutation, I need to enjoy the time I have left.. no matter how little that is.

"And what of Martine?"

Michael looked Emil in the eyes and let his hands drop to his lap. "Oh god, Martine.. I'm so sorry."

He sat staring for a minute at Emil but past Emil. "Michael are you okay?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Michael you're a genius, you've cured diseases and conditions that had killed thousands!" At this he took Michael by the shoulders and shook him. "Michael, we have time, we have the labs, we can do this! Think about your wife!"

"My wife... I have a wife.." He looked up with a renewed sense of vigor. "Yes. Let's do it. Let's cure this."


	9. A Change of Plans

At home Michael enjoyed every full minute he could with his fiancé. He met her parents on a brief trip to Connecticut, He held her every night they slept together, he even presented her with the diamond and gold ring he had ordered and promised her more where that came from. Secretly he changed his will and put his assets in order pouring everything he had into a private bank account. If anything happened to him Emil would be left his awards and the rights to two of his patents, Martine would get the rest. They would both be well cared for.

Come January he started to work twelve hour days and even work weekends. Martine didn't like it, it was truly taking a toll on him both physically and mentally but he had told her that he was doing important life saving research so she understood and tried to do her best to support him. He never spoke a word to her about his diagnosis.

By February he was looking like a completely different man. His hairline had receded, he had deep creases in his face, and she was sure that she had found layers of old and new needle marks in his arm. Martine was frightened but he assured her he was fine and they still made love together as often as possible. They set a date for June, he tried to talk her into April but she wanted it in the summer so he reluctantly obliged. Very reluctantly.

At the lab they finally had a few breakthroughs with radiation and began testing on rats. After a few generations they abandoned that research. The cancer spread through the rats indiscriminately. Michael surveyed some other notable research and found that testing on animals that digested blood showed promising results. They pooled the department's resources to order a small group of twenty special-bred vampire bats from Brazil. Michael and Emil started the testing immediately but the bats became too ill during the radiation tests. After two weeks and three dead bats they switched to electric shock and an experimental serum to try to trigger an increased healing factor. So far results looked promising.

Emil worked to strap closed his work gloves around his sleeves. They needed to be tight to ensure they were stable and the bats wouldn't bite his arm when he reached into the cage. Michael sat in a chair in front of the tall steel cages of bats with his hands tented, he studied them through the bars.

"Michael are you feeling okay today?"

"No, I've not been able to sleep lately. I'm running out of time Emil." He sounded agitated.

"Nonsense. You have plenty of time left.."

"Do not toy with me Emil, I saw the latest samples. I shall die soon if nothing is done."

"Michael, we are working as fast as the school will allow and we're very close to a breakthrough old friend."

"Not close enough. We need to start human testing of the serum."

"Michael be reasonable. It will take years before we will get the go ahead ." Emil wandered over to one of his clipboards on the white laminate counter and began flipping through it.

Michael thought carefully on how to proceed. "If we go out to international waters.."

Emil turned towards him angrily. "Michael! We can do no such thing!"

"We could start the human testing immediately there." He spoke slowly and meticulously, thinking out each word.

Emil threw the clip board down into the corner of the room. "And what kind of test subject are we going to talk into risking their life in a highly immoral study twenty miles offshore?!"

Michael looked him in the eyes. "Me."

"That's ridiculous, you have too much to live for."

At that Michael rose out of his chair and stepped up to confront Emil. His tone was passionately aggressive. "I am already dying Emil! If I do not die in the tests I will surely be gone shortly after!"

Emil conceded that point, there was no arguing that the disease was spreading. "And what of Martine?"

Michael looked forlornly at his own feet. "I will say my goodbyes and leave her here. I have sorted out my affairs. If you report my death you will both be well cared for."

"Michael this is crazy.."

"It is my last hope!" He stayed standing despite the effort it took to hold himself up, his voice was crazed and desperate. "Emil, it's my only chance.."

Emil could of course tell that he was correct, Michael was dying at an accelerated rate. Every point Michael made was correct yet horribly risky. He paused for a minute in serious thought. "Michael if I do this thing and you live I'm going back to Greece. I will no longer work under you old friend. I'm sorry."

Michael picked up his cell to make a call. "Not half as sorry as I am."


	10. On the Yacht

It was mid March and the dock was crowded with fishermen cleaning and preparing their boats for the spring. A chill breeze blew in over the waves and rustled the trees onshore. There had been a streak of good weather lately with temperatures in the forty to fifty degree range making it the ideal condition to take out the yacht. At the dock entrance Michael limped along on a cane while overseeing the equipment being moved onboard. Martine carried him a fresh thermos of coffee, the sun was lowering on the horizon and she didn't want him to catch a chill. He already looked as though he was at death's door.

"Here, I brought you some coffee. I want you to drink it."

"Martine I don't have time for..." She flashed him a disapproving look and his heart melted. "I'm sorry. Of course." He made a large show of sipping a bit through the mouthpiece on the lid and then sat it down on the worn wooden rail. "Did you make your hotel accommodations?"

"No. I didn't because I'm coming with you." She planted her feet firm and motioned behind her to where her luggage stood packed and ready to come on board.

"Martine absolutely not! It is too dangerous for you.."

"Oh, but just dangerous enough for you?" She smirked.

"I absolutely forbid it!"

She leaned in and wrapped her arms around his waist and carefully planted a loving kiss on his mouth.

"I forbid it." Despite his intent his once booming voice came out barely more than a whisper. All the anger was gone, sapped from it by her affection.

"If you're quite done bellowing I'll be moving my bags into the cabin now." She smiled as she let him go and he struggled to position his cane in time to support himself.

He cursed under his breath. She was a major weakness of his and her interference could cost him time that he desperately needed. Yet as he watched her smile and wheel her bags up the dock he didn't have the will to resist her any further. Perhaps this would afford him a few last nights with the one person he loved most of all.

Emil walked up to him bundled in his white wool coat. "I thought we agreed that she couldn't come?"

"I can't leave her Emil. She's my everything."

"She'll be the death of you this time."

Morbius turned hostile towards his once friend, "That is ridiculous. I will tell her to stay on deck and we'll start the first round of shock treatments at sundown."

Emil sighed and pulled up his sleeve to check his wristwatch. "That's maybe four to three hours tops then to get offshore. We must hurry."

Michael smoothed his hair out with his hand and took another sip of the still warm coffee. "The equipment is on it just needs to be hooked up and double-checked."

"And you're sure about Martine?"

"I can't talk her out of it. I actually ordered her.."

Emil stifled a laugh. "Yeah, how could she not be swayed by your forcefulness."

Michael side-eyed him but decided not to ruffle any more feathers until later. "Let's get to the lower deck then."

"Okay Michael, but this is very ill advised."

With that the pair shuffled off towards the boat. Both wary of events now set in motion.

* * *

The weather thankfully held it's cool and mild temperament and the boat made swift progress travelling for an hour. At about twenty-five miles from the coast they stopped to drop anchor. The sun began to dip towards the horizon and they all decided to take in some relaxation before the testing. On deck muffled noises escaped from the first floor cabin.

"Martine I have to go." He rolled over onto his back on the twin sized bed and tugged on his pants. Blankets were piled on the floor from being kicked off of the mattress carelessly. He barely had any energy left but if he hadn't taken the opportunity to make love to her a last time he was positive he'd regret it for eternity.

"Are you sure you have to work now? It's dark outside." She looked darling in her lace slip and he prayed he'd get another night at least to lay and hold her as she dreamt.

"That's why we have the generators. Do not worry about us."

"But why all this secrecy Michael? Why the ocean? Why rent the yacht?" She leaned on the bed and rested on her stomach.

He bent down and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Please just trust me."

"I do Michael, but please be safe. All I want is for you to be safe." She sighed heavily and he turned to cover her with the blanket, taking a moment to caress her back before he exited the room.

"I will Martine... and I love you"

Below deck Emil was double checking the generators and listening to the weather report on the radio with the occasional hiss of static due to a lost signal. The hold was far smaller than their usual lab and machines had to be squeezed in on all sides. The lighted components and monitors produced an eerie green glow that reflected off the walls. Michael walked down the stairs hearing a reverberation with each footstep.

"Emil, is everything functioning?" He walked over to check the measurements on a small laptop towards the center of the room.

"Yes, everything is ready. You may want to change first." Emil motioned towards a small suitcase tucked in a corner.

Michael took it cautiously from the ground and opened it up beside the laptop on the counter. Inside there were two suits of clothes. One a silver conductive suit woven with circuits, the other to be worn under was a navy blue rubber polymer with a red collar, skintight and meant to insulate against the shocks he was about to get subjected to.

"I'll change. Just promise me Emil, if this doesn't work you'll take care of Martine won't you?"

Emil looked up with sympathetic eyes. "You know I will, Michael."


	11. Rebirth

Michael did his best to lay still, strapped down to the large inclined metal slab of a chair while Emil took measurements. Everything was cold and uncomfortable but he was too nervous to focus on it and tried to distract his mind with calculations. He already felt like death but he couldn't give up, not while Martine needed him. after another run through in his mind he summoned all his courage to speak. "Are you ready Emil?"

"Ready Michael."

"Do it."

Emil flipped the first switch forcing an electric current through Michael's body making his muscles spasm and lights to appear behind his closed eyes like a million shiny stars sparkling and blinding him. Michael stayed silent and stifled as much as he could but it was a horrible pain like sharp tacks being driven into his skin.

Emil checked the displays for results and then adjusted the current to double its output. Michael stifled a scream as it felt like his very skin was being flayed from his body. He had never expected it to feel so excruciating, if this were to keep up he'd surely black out yet in his mind he already knew something was going wrong. Stray thoughts flashed in his consciousness, childhood memories, the taste of ginger chicken, the sound of a harpsichord. He finally let go into a full scream as the full thirty seconds felt like hours of pain.

"There!" Emil hit a glowing button to cut off power. "There Michael I saw it, it's working the readout says so!

Michael laid still and silent.

"Michael are you okay?" Emil moved over to him and checked his pulse. He was still alive but his heart rate was slow.

"Emmiiil.." His voice came out as a bare whisper.

"Yes Michael, are you okay? How do you feel?" Emil undid the straps and unzipped the outer suit from him to make him more comfortable. He took the time to peel the wired electrodes off of his forehead so as not to rip out any of Michael's hair.

"I need to ..rest. Just a moment." He meant it as it came out of his mouth but the nagging doubt that he was okay surfaced again. He tried to open his eyes but the lights were an overpowering red glare to him. His jaw hurt and there was a smell, something indescribably powerful and attractive. It wafted towards him enticingly and he suddenly knew he'd do anything to taste it, even just a little.

"Michael I'll get you some water. You stay right here."

As Emil moved to the back of the room Michael sat upright. His eyes adjusted to the brightness he perceived in the dark room by seeing only in shades of red. Emil's shape glowed like a fire in the night. He put his feet on the ground one by one as softly as he could manage, he knew not why. There was a foreign compulsion driving him, something animalistic. Emil was on to something, water perhaps? It felt like a thirst that had to be sated. Michael coiled himself up and when Emil turned towards him there was a look of recognition and terror. Michael pounced throwing the larger man to the ground and held him forcefully underneath his arms. Emil got out a hoarse yell before Michael bent down and tore out his throat with his teeth. His torn throat gurgled with the effort to speak and air escaping blood and collapsed flaps of flesh, it was the last sound he'd ever make.

* * *

When Michael awoke he was covered in blood, he could smell it everywhere, and the sudden realization of what he had done hit him like a wave. Emil lay dead and staring with that same look of horror on his face. "Oh god... Emil?"

He knew immediately Emil was dead from the gore but there was a part of him in denial, a part that thought just perhaps if he could shake Emil awake everything would be okay. When there was no response he took his hand over Emil's face and closed his eyelids.

"What have I done?! I'm so sorry Emil.. my friend." He brought his hands up to his mouth and felt his teeth under his lip but the blood on his hand distracted him from investigating his newly formed fangs. The blood was blissfully delicious, it consumed all his thoughts for a moment until he snapped back to attention.

"Oh god, I need help.." He thought about the radio but he'd surely be arrested. No. That won't do, and then at that crucial moment his thoughts turned towards Martine and he bolted from his crouched position on the floor to run up the stairs. The lightness of his footsteps didn't make even the tiniest sound against the steel.

Above deck he could smell her even though she was in a cabin with a closed door, he could hear her lightly singing along to her music and her heart beat was like a booming drum in his ears. How good it would feel to go in there and make love to her. Lay in her warm arms and kiss her, biting her and taking a bit of her warm red bloo...

"No." He caught his thoughts in disgust. "Not Martine. Never Martine." He stared in alarm "I have to get away from her."

Escape, his only thoughts were of escape. Better to die than to hurt her. To dive into the ocean and never come back, that was his only option.

He walked to the rail and looked out over the hungry ocean lapping at the sides of the yacht. His path was set.

* * *

From the cabin Martine heard the sound of a large splash and shut off her music out of alarm. "Michael? Emil is that you?" The only response was the quiet noise of the ocean so she opened the door to the deck.

"Michael are you out there?" Again no answer. She slipped on her sandals by the door and ventured out under the glow of the moon. She saw something black on the door to her room and thought about touching it but the handprint shaped smudge seemed menacing somehow, she needed to find Michael. She could see well enough to get to the door to Michael's makeshift lab, it was wide open. Martine's skin pricked up at the back of her neck but she leaned in past the door and into the shadows.

"Michael? Are you guys down there?"

She grew more worried by the second. It wasn't like them to leave the door unlocked and the stairs were poorly lit. Still she ventured down to the bottom, hugging the cold metal handrail the entire way. Her sandals reverberated on the thin metal steps. At the bottom the room was bathed in a soft green light with splotches of black fluid everywhere as though someone had flung a paint can. In the corner she spotted a shoe. No, a foot. As she approached it the silhouette of Emil became visible against the wooden floorboards his throat torn wide open and ragged. Blood oozed in black puddles from his torn flesh.

Martine screamed.

 


	12. Lost and Found

All he felt was a chill all the way through to his bones when Michael came to. He was surprised to find that he was dry and bundled in spare sheets on a makeshift cot. It was dark and cramped, Morbius tried to flex his arms but they felt like fire and pain making him stop short. He let out a groan of effort and heard footsteps on the cold metal floor.

"Mon amie, are you okay?"

Michael froze, squeezed his eyes shut, and stayed silent yet he could still catch a glimpse. the man was in his twenties, a sailor in his prime with dark hair and five-o-clock shadow. He approached Michael and moved the sheets to feel his pulse at his wrist. The smell of him was intoxicatingly good, the same smell on Emil. When the man leaned over to feel Michael's forehead with his hand Michael raised his arm and gripped him at the shoulder. He tried to back off from surprise but Morbius' grip held tight. He scarcely had a second to scream before the vampire's teeth came up to his throat.

Once he'd finished drinking from the corpse Michael dragged the limp and heavy body behind a crate in the hold and piled the sheets onto it. He was below deck on a fishing vessel, that much was clear to him. He could smell the fish and hear the far off yelling of the men hauling in the nets, most of all he could smell their blood as they worked and their circulation rushed. Drifting in the ocean had left him tired and lethargic and the blood of the sailor who watched over him had helped but he was far from sated. He needed more and by his count there was a crew of maybe ten more men here, but it was day and the sunlight discouraged his intent more than he could understand. To wait for darkness would be best, to ambush the men and discover where he was by checking their navigation equipment. He resolved to rest for now and sat down in the corner of the room beside some damp plywood.

With his blood red vision he caught a glimpse of his reflection on the hull. He was hideous, a pale ghost of a man with monstrous glowing eyes. He studied it for a moment but revulsion overtook curiosity so he reluctantly turned his head away and curled up to sleep once more. As he drifted off his thoughts flashed briefly to Martine and he prayed silently for her safety and hoped she was far away from where he was now.

* * *

Martine sat at the police office, the third time she'd been called in as many days. This week had been a nightmare she never seemed to wake from.

After discovering Emil Nikos' body she managed to find the ship's radio and call the coastguard. They were able to use the GPS to find her offshore but it was a weak signal and a good six hour wait that she spent shaking and thinking about whatever had killed Emil and had taken her husband. She stayed scared and locked in her cabin until they arrived. Of course on land there was a media storm brewing. A missing Nobel prize winning scientist and his slaughtered assistant survived only by his trophy wife. That was the exact wording she heard.  _"Trophy wife"_. They weren't even married yet, now they likely never would be. Even sitting on a bench in the NYPD police station and trying as hard as she could to be serious and hopeful she began to cry. Sgt. Davis, a tall black man in his thirties who was way too sweet and protective for his own good saw her from his perch by the corner where he was chatting with a minor officer. He immediately broke off the conversation and came over to her and offered her a tissue out of his breast pocket.

"Hey there, here dry your eyes. You know we're trying our damndest."

Martine gratefully took the tissue and traced the tears down her face with it. "I know. I know. I just. I'm dealing with a lot, this is my third questioning and today two of your men had to escort me from my apartment because three news vans were waiting outside for me this morning." She hadn't even eaten anything for two days but she decided to withhold that detail.

"Well we may have some leads today. Hey why don't you go ahead and sit down in my office okay? I'll be in there in a second when my Captain gets in, we'll have some kind of new info today okay? The investigators sent over a new report. I promise."

"Thank you." Martine stood and strolled to the office trying to draw as little attention as she could.

The office was plain but cluttered with file folders and loose paper. The computer on the desk was an older model with a wired mouse and a keyboard stacked with old coffee cups. She sat down in one of the guest office chairs to wait and to tidy up her appearance. In about three minutes the Chief of police barged in loudly talking on his cell with Davis following. Davis took the seat next to her and the Chief who just went by "John" to Martine, sat behind the desk at Davis's chair. She had never caught his last name fully, it was something long and unpronounceable.

"Yes. Yes. I know, Okay. Have it here by five. Alright bye." John finally put his phone away and turned to Martine. "Okay, Ms. Bancroft some of the investigators have analyzed the equipment that your husband set up on the boat including some of the other doctors from ESU helping the investigation. We need to know if he told you anything at all about what he was doing with the equipment."

Martine was flustered. "How is it even relevant? How is that going to help us find him?"

Davis looked nervously at Martine and then John. He sighed and stated calmly "Conners at ESU analyzed some fluids and things from the boat. Did your husband tell you about any health problems recently?"

"No.. why? What have you found?!"

Davis put his hand over Martine's and gripped her fingers. "Your husband was sick Martine. Really sick."

"He couldn't have been.. he would have told me. Michael wasn't the kind of person to lie to me."

At this point John cleared his throat and spoke up "Well we just wanted to bring you in today to contemplate the possibility that.."

"That what?"

Davis finished his statement for him "That we're investigating the possibility of a suicide."

"But that wouldn't make any sense, if Michael drowned himself than what happened to Emil?"

"We're worried it may be a homicide-suicide. Don't panic though! It's just, we have to rule this out. We found some ummm.. abnormalities."

"Michael would never do that! Just so you know, he was a kind sweet man!"

Davis breathed in at an attempt to rally some courage. He had dealt with some powerful women in his day but Martine was fierce and determined to find her husband. She was not going to like the news. "Martine we found your husband's saliva on Emil Nikos' neck. I'm so sorry."

It was all too much, she couldn't dare believe it. Martine just slumped in her chair and cried.

* * *

About two miles off of the tip of the Long Island coast the fishing ship sat under the cover of darkness and the light of the moon reflected like glass shards on the ocean. One of the crewmen dropped anchor when some of the first screams were heard. The stranger they had found out at sea was no man, Phil Gilginson had seen him with his own two eyes as he had leapt from below deck and taken his friend Marco by the throat, spraying blood everywhere as the creature sank it's teeth into his neck. Marco wasn't weak, Marco was possibly the most fit guy on the ship but the creature tore through him like tissue paper. It was the worst thing Phil had ever seen and he was suddenly cursing himself for not taking that summer job at his family's restaurant like his folks had suggested.

He clutched a small section of lead pipe like it was life itself and rounded the side of the ship's stern being careful not to slip on the occasional puddle of blood that peppered the deck. Benny had just run this way but he was nowhere to be seen. Phil wanted the pair to stay together, it was safer to have two sets of eyes but he was far too scared to call out Benny's name and possibly gain the attention of the monster. As he tiptoed along for what seemed like hours but must have been only minutes a shadow flashed in the periphery of his vision. When he turned it was already gone but the hair on his neck stood in alert and it felt as though his heart would explode at any moment.

A dull scratching noise drew him over to the rail, still sweating, still clutching his pipe for all it was worth. A shape sprung over the railing and landed silently on two feet, its hair wild and long, its eyes red and illuminated as if they glowed from some molten core under its skin. It wore a suit of dark blue with splashes of red at the waist and neck but looked more like a cruel mockery of humanity than a normal man, Its sleeves ended at the forearm where its pale white flesh tapered off into long blood drenched claws that it held limp and pointed towards the ocean. The beast lurched and bared its teeth at him. It had shiny needlelike teeth.

Phil ran right but the monster moved faster than he could detect and stood in his path, Phil backed away but it was too late. He could see the amusement in its eyes, like an orca he'd once seen playing with a seal until its limp corpse offered no more entertainment value. He darted forward and swung the pipe hard outstretched in front of him in an arc but the monster just caught his arm around the elbow and squeezed causing him excruciating pain. He dropped the pipe as his arm snapped loudly and limped at an unnatural angle, the bone poked through his skin and he could make out the dull sheen of it in the moonlight. The beast gripped his shoulder with one outstretched clawed hand and held his head with the other, slowly forcing them apart. As it lowered its mouth down to his neck he thought he heard the words "Last one".

* * *

It was a day before another random fishing vessel happened upon the sorry ship and called the coastguard. The bodies were all pecked by seabirds by then and hard to identify by forensics, but in their search the investigators found a photo taken on a sailor's cell the day before the murders of a man the men had rescued from the waves. The photo was passed to the NYPD and Davis showed it to Martine for ID. She knew now, as did everyone what had happened to her beloved Michael. The seven O'clock news nicknamed him the "vampire killer", from there it spread and changed. Morbius "the living vampire" was on the loose.


	13. Foes

The sun dipped below the horizon line again, the sunlight fading into stratified colors. Morbius the vampire, formerly Morbius the man, rested in a near comatose state inside the attic of an old and slightly ill cared for beach house. It was an early constructed home close to the ocean where he managed to come ashore and given its state he figured that surely no one would find him hidden among the old boxes and bins of family heirlooms. Anytime he attempted sleep he slipped into a nightmarish replay of his past leading up to his transformation and this time was no different. He dreamt of Nikos, Jack, and his old lab but mostly of Martine with that gold diamond ring on her left hand. If he survived this existence he swore to make it up to her.

When the sky turned to full inky darkness he stirred from his hiding spot and decided his best course of action would be to check the house and surroundings. To his disappointment the home was not empty but Michael only sensed only one entity within its walls. Thank goodness he was still full from the sailors he slaughtered or he'd be tempted, he decided it best not to think about that too much.

Down from the collapsible attic door and treading carefully through a long darkened hall he glimpsed bits of old fashioned lab equipment stored in rooms with antique pea green carpeting. The walls were a ghastly vintage yellow, and there was little furniture to speak of, certainly this was not a standard family home. At the end of the hallway Michael finally glimpsed a light. Below him lay the main room and entryway into the house with a full lab setup, well stocked and clearly lit. A man with six arms was mixing vials of fluid. It was Spider-man! Michael easily recognized the costume from the news reports, but six arms?! Surely he was going mad! The computer on the fishing vessel had said that he was off the coast of Long Island, not near downtown New York where the web-slinger made himself known, and the lab?! The most unlikely of setups. He must be dreaming still or perhaps going insane!

The thought of him losing his grip on reality made him suddenly aware that he felt ill, his stomach turned in knots and sweat began to bead on his arms from the strain of composing himself. Anger rose in his mind, anger at his circumstances and anger at Spider-man who must have been sent to apprehend him. Michael the rational man faded once more, turning to a monster who didn't give a second thought to action and acted only on instinct. He poised and jumped off of the railing, drifting down below to land on Spider-man who seemed to realize that Morbius was there as he turned his face up towards him and braced for impact at the last minute. Glass vials scattered on the floor and shards of glass shattered in all directions. Spider-man's strength helped him dodge the first blow and flip the strange creature off of his back and towards a tiled wall, he landed with a thud.

"What the hell even are you?! You crawl out of Transylvania or something?"

Morbius regained his balance on his feet and hissed loudly baring his teeth. His brain was all fiery hate there was no consciousness capable of directing speech. He acted on pure hunter's instinct swiping at Spider-man with his arms, claws extended and aimed to tear flesh. All blows were dodged quite rapidly in succession as Spider-man ducked behind a counter for cover.

With no warning the front door creaked open and both men froze in alarm. Curt Conners, from the ESU science department casually strolled in carrying a briefcase. He wiped his feet on the front rug and sat his burden down by the door while the dueling pair opposite him stood unmoving, not knowing what to do. When Conners yawned and then turned towards the lab nothing could have properly braced him for the scene. Morbius was poised claws raised above Spider-man whose six arms were all braced for a hit. The lab was trashed with nary a flask unbroken and fluids pooled on the floor producing ghastly smells and wisps of steam.

When he mentally processed his surroundings and sudden peril Conners' face contorted in alarm. Morbius saw an opening, snarled, and rushed him with arms extended.

Spider-man yelled a warning to Conners too late as Morbius landed a slash across his chest tearing into his sweater and coat but not far through his flesh. It left three distinct claw marks a quarter inch deep into his skin, missing bone but oozing blood. Blood which set Morbius even more on edge.

Spider-man stuck a web line in the ceiling and tackled the vampire in a dramatic swoop from across the room, he knew he couldn't let Conners suffer too much stress or he could turn into his evil alter ego the Lizard! While The vampire and he grappled for dominance Peter Parker, the man known as Spider-Man saw it was too late, Conners doubled over in pain giving in to his transformation, growing back his missing arm and becoming a horrible scaly beast who turned on Spider-man with razor sharp teeth.

Now distracted from Conners' blood trail Morbius managed to land an elbow drive straight at Spider-man's chest. The pain was incredible, for a moment he questioned whether the vampire might have incapacitated him enough to consider him now a harmless snack but much to his relief the Lizard chose that moment to leap on top of Morbius sinking it's teeth into his forearm. Morbius howled with pain and tried to force the jaws open with his hands but they were shut tighter than a bear trap and his fingers could not get a grip on the creature's slippery gums or scales.

He was now losing blood badly and it soaked into the sleeve of his costume and splattered in gobs on the floor. Finally, with effort, the vampire lifted the lizard's entire body and hurled him into one of the labs machines, his jaws released as an electric shock hit him and coursed through his body. Morbius stood and clasped at his wound closed desperately trying to stop the bleeding but an odd look overcame him and he bent down to the now unconscious Conners' neck. Spidey took the opportunity to throw a tracer onto Morbius' back which thankfully evaded the vampire's notice, and when he raised up his head again with gore dripping from his mouth there was a much different look to him. His eyes appeared less hollow, more focused and his face was screwed into a reflection of terror. He turned and fled the scene through the front door in a flash.

With his injury Spider-man could never hope to keep up with him, the best thing would be to track him later and pray that in the meantime he didn't hurt anyone. His job now was to tend to Conners.

* * *

Morbius ran as fast as his legs would function until he came to a metropolitan area of decrepit offices and neglected multi-story buildings. Inside a boarded up old bank he stopped to check his wounds and rest.

His arm wasn't bad by now, the holes mending with fresh new skin as shiny as satin. The blood he had drunk helped a long way towards mending the damaged tissue, the bite marks in his clothing would be somewhat more permanent.

He cursed under his breath, how could he have been so rash as to attack Spider-man? He couldn't even remember initiating it was more as if his body had gone on auto-pilot without his brain's input. But still, Spider-man! And then Conners' transformation?! What bizarre world was he living in? He'd worked in the same building as the man for years and had never known that he had such a dark secret. Gloom overtook him as he realized that he now harbored a similar such secret and that Conners may have recognized him. He tried to calm himself as best he could manage with thoughts of home, thoughts of Martine. He realized that the blood makes it much easier to regain control, perhaps if he fed first then went to her.. Kept his emotions calm.. He scolded himself, no it was way too risky. Best to just rest and get some more sleep, the wounds had taken a lot out of him and he was sure he'd be fine if he just got a little sleep. Only a little. He laid down his head and closed his eyes.

* * *

"Jeez, how long has he been here? You think he's dead?"

"Nah, look, the fucker is still breathing."

"Dude don't touch him. He looks diseased.."

"I'll be fine Keith." The homeless man known only as Jace tilted Morbius just an inch with the sole of his boot as though he were taking a peak beneath a particularly foul rock. "Shit man, no pockets I can see."

Keith, a skinny black man of little courage, took the moves of his friend as a sign of safety and leaned over Morbius to get a better look at his face. "Well what is he?"

All at once Keith felt a weight and pressure at his neck like he had donned a lead tie too heavy to lift, then the pain came sharp and all encompassing until he died bleeding out a moment later.

When the vampire had sunk its teeth into his friend Jace ran not ever hesitating or wondering if Keith would be okay. Fuck that, he had seen too much crazy shit in this town and it was after all, every man for himself. He bolted down the hall reaching a dead elevator and some stairs to the basement but to his dismay the doors were locked and no amount of strength could open them. By the time he decided to run back and look for another route Morbius was there standing in his way, fangs bared and blood dripping down the curves of his jaw.

"What time is it?"

Jace was stunned by this relatively simple question coming from the mouth of a monster, so much so that he stared in disbelief for precious seconds before processing the request. He pulled up his sleeve and checked the fake Rolex that he always wore stationed on his arm. "Uuhhh ..it's seven thirty."

The vampire turned and left leaving Jace staring at his watch and wishing they had never broken in this place.

* * *

"Five blocks east and then twelve this way... then I can be home once more." Morbius double-checked the lit subway map for his preferred route and then pulled out the worn leather wallet that he'd taken off of the homeless man he'd killed. An ID, discount cards, and fifteen dollars and some change, not much by any standards but perhaps enough to help, he tucked the bills into his belt and discarded the rest to the curb.

Spider-man and the half-human Conners swung in and landed loudly on the sidewalk behind him. Spidey took the initiative. "Morbius stop! We're here to help!"

Michael looked towards them wearing a pitiful expression at first but it quickly shifted as he raised his defenses. He spoke slowly and deeply, his voice reverberating and a bit of his accent slipping through. "So. You know who I am."

Without bothering to respond Spider-man glanced an opening and launched a web line out to Morbius wrapping his body in a smooth damp material. It was heavy and slammed Michael to the ground in surprise with it's force and weight. "Conners quick! take some blood!"

Michael panicked and twisted but his wrists were bound as Conners ventured over and punctured his arm Michael wrested a finger free and sawed at the web with his claw, shortly freeing his other fingers.

"Now this serum should work!" Conners raised it over his head triumphantly to check the color under the light of a nearby streetlamp. He took a small sip from the tube and started changing back into his full-human scale-less state.

Morbius shredded the rest of the web and used the confusion it caused to grab the vial. Curt screamed in surprise. Whatever was in it could help him find a cure for himself, of this much he was sure, but when he turned to leave Spidey hit him square in the back with another shot of Web. This time Morbius kept moving stopping it from encasing him and drawing it into one long line that held strong. Acting on instinct Michael spread his arms using the wing-like flaps on his costume to gather passing air currents and glide up but Spidey held strong to the end of the web. "Morbius no! We need to get you help!" Peter cursed at himself for not guessing that Morbius could fly, the guy was a vampire after all!

"Self righteous idiots! You're not here to help me!" He snarled back.

 _He didn't need any help anyway. Not from costumed heroes parading around the city for publicity! He just needed to get away!_  The currents lifted him towards the Brooklyn bridge but his distraction at the weight of his tow line hitchhiker and his unfamiliarity with gliding caused him to impact with the bridge itself and plummet into the near freezing water. He heard Spider-man onshore yell out a loud "Morbius!" but he couldn't free himself from the water, this wasn't like the ocean, it was moving fast and the undertow tugged at his legs with all the force of a shark, in shear panic Michael raised his arms up towards the surface but a single web line shot to grab the vial out of his hand. No other assistance came and he was pulled down into the black fluid cursing Spider-man with his last coherent thoughts.


	14. A New Start

"Do you think he'll be okay though?"

"Well, he's still breathing. He'll recover."

"And supposin' he attacks when he wakes up?"

"Don't be ridiculous Jack. Michael would never do such a thing."

Morbius heard the two familiar voices tug at his consciousness through a layer of fog and confusion. He tried hard to place them from his memory, but even with the mental distraction at that moment his body convulsed involuntarily as he retched up water from deep inside that covered his chest in a disgusting wave.  _Oh god, river water, that's right._

Despite the fatigue he narrowly was able to open one eye to glimpse his surrounding and there before him an intense golden light surrounding what he believed to be an angel.

"Michael? Oh Michael! You are okay!" The radiant figure leaned over his prone frame and encircled him in it's warm arms.

"Am... Am ..I dead..? He managed to squeeze out the words between hacks of more fluids.

"Michael, it's me it's Martine!" She snuggled his chin with her nose and planted a kiss on his cheek despite the smell and bile that covered him.

Recognition flooded him with relief and he wrapped her in his arms so firmly that he soon loosened his grip fearing he'd hurt her. "Oh god. Martine. You're safe, I was so worried."

"I'm safe?! Michael you almost died!"

"What happened?"

"Well I was out walking and I heard a man, I don't know who but from a block away I heard him shout your name." Morbius nodded knowing that it was Spider-man's final yell that she had heard. "And I ran and I ran and I looked all over the river where the yell came from Michael, and like a damned miracle you washed up on the shore."

She finally broke the hug they had both been holding onto and stood straight no longer blocking the light from his eyes. He shielded it with his hand instinctively and bared his teeth.

"Sorry about that bud, here I'll dim the lights." The ambiance of the room shifted suddenly becoming much easier for his eyes to handle.

"Jack?"

"Yep, it's me. Martine called me when she found you. She couldn't move you by herself." He stepped over to where Morbius could finally view him looking like his usual self, arms folded in defiance.

"Wait, where are we?" He gathered the courage to attempt to sit up but failed, only budging slightly and rolling to one side. He could tell that he was on top of a cot raised up off of the floor.

Martine answered. "We're at a hotel room, Jack put it under his name and he's not part of the investigation so we should be safe here."

Michael finally used his arms to pry his chest off of the cot and sit up slowly, flipping his legs in front of him and letting them dangle towards the floor. He looked Martine over and she was nothing like he remembered. She was plainly dressed in teal, her outfit filthy with water and river mud, her face red and splotchy, she had been crying. He just silently stared and evaluated as she moved closer to grasp his head in her hands but when she touched him he turned his chin away. "Martine don't look at me. I'm.. I'm not the same."

She refused to listen and instead grabbed his head forcefully tilting it back towards her, he closed his eyes as she felt his now pointed ears and how his eyes had widened, worst she took her fingers and pried open his lips glimpsing the set of ivory colored fangs that had replaced his old canine teeth. She gasped and he forced his mouth shut and turned away again. "I warned you."

At that she took a step back bringing her hand full force flat across his left cheek with a loud smack. It stung badly, even worse coming from her. Michael froze turned away staying his reaction but Jack flinched at the motion. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare tell me not to look Michael after all the lying and ..and.. and Michael you were DYING and you didn't tell me!" Her tears betrayed her demeanor and they rolled across her face in a gush.

He couldn't stand it. He did this. Not Emil, not fate, not Spider-man, he was to blame and there was nothing he could do to fix it. "Martine I.." but instead of finishing he simply gathered her into his arms again and held her while she sobbed. She was warm and comforting and she smelled so nice that Michael fought a strong impulse to sniff her and lost. the smell was attractive and sweet, it lingered around his thoughts like cord suddenly pulled taut...  _Oh no._  He felt the fangs extend and fought them, his body becoming rigid with the effort as his vision slid into darker shades of red.  _No. Not her. Not Martine!_

"Michael I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Her voice broke him like a pick shattering a pillar of ice into a million pieces. He felt his control returning.

"Martine you aren't safe here."

"Michael we're fine. The police don't know.."

"It's not the police I'm worried about Martine... it's me."

She backed away a bit and Jack stepped forward reaching into his hip pocket and showing Morbius the muzzle of the gun he had stowed there. He tilted his head and Michael nodded in agreement. "Jack promise me you'll use it on me if you two are in danger."

"You know I will."

"Good." He hopped down off of the cot to the worn down red carpet resting on the balls of his feet at first and taking time to stretch, every part of him seemed sore. Martine gave him another look over and retrieved a polished steel suitcase from the top of the hotel bed. She clicked the locks and handed him two long metal cylinders. It was blood.

"Martine.. how did you?" He unscrewed the lid looked down into the shadowy contents of the container, his fangs extended again.

"Don't ask, just drink it."

He tilted the cold steel to his lips and gulped down a half-liter of fluid. It was room temperature and starting to clot, that was good as anticoagulants would probably kill him. Compared to fresh blood it was sour and a tad bitter but he drained the first.

He had a harder time with the second cylinder, it wasn't bad but his body retched forcing him to spit half a mouthful down his chest. He tried to compose himself but a coughing fit came on and it took a minute to shake off. Martine stepped over and rubbed his back to soothe him, "Are you okay? does it work?"

"No, it's okay. My body feels better but my mind is still clouded with thirst. Please give me a moment my love." He threw the rest down his throat in a torrent and chugged it, setting the empty container down on the cot when he had finished. His eyes glowed red and his pupils shrunk in size. Martine and Jack backed away and Jack put his hand conspicuously inside his pocket but after a moment Michael's features reverted to their former state.

Martine stepped cautiously forward and caressed his face as he nuzzled her hand affectionately. "You need a shower, I brought you clean clothes. Anything else you need we'll find a way to talk together. The police are monitoring the apartment they think you'll come back there."

"What do they know?"

"Everything. They even have photos of you from the Delphinus, the fishing boat you attacked after Emil on the yacht." He eyed her quizzically but she remained calm. "You left a bloody handprint on the door of the cabin..."

"I'm sorry.. I was tempted to go to you but I decided death would be better than risk it. I'm a weak creature Martine."

"Michael. Michael, Michael, Michael.. That is anything but weak and you're no creature."

His heavy eyelids drooped with fatigue as he nervously bit his lip. "You haven't seen what I've done. It's like another being takes over, I can't stop it."

She fished out of her pocket two keys on a simple ring and three letters in torn and ragged envelopes. "Here, take these with you when you travel."

The envelopes held correspondence with contacts of his in the science community. He flipped through them confused. "Martine.. why?"

"They're all researching conditions like yours Michael. This way you're free to find a cure for yourself."

"Martine I'm putting people at risk by simply existing! I need to turn myself in." he said the words but the ever-nagging logic center of his brain knew that it was impossible. He'd die of starvation in the cells or worse, go into the thirst's possession and not be able to return.

"Michael you're strong and a good man, I believe in you." He enjoyed another brief hug before she backed away. "Ugh, you do need that wash though!"

* * *

Jack reclined on the bed watching the old brick of a television while Morbius soaked in the hot bath water. Martine sat by the tub looking him over as he lathered and washed his skin. To her he looked different, not just the pale white skin tone but different all around. His hips seemed narrower, his muscles more built and tight, and his fingers seemed longer with the pointed claw tips. Morbius shrank under her gaze, he just wanted to be hers again, instead he knew that she hardly could recognize him the way he was now. "Martine I..."

"It's all right Michael, I have to leave soon just get clean. We can talk for now."

"I just wanted you to know, why I never told you about the disease." He gulped. "I wanted so badly to be your husband Martine, and then I was diagnosed and I knew I'd never even live that long.. I didn't want to disappoint you. You mean the world to me and I couldn't disappoint you." He finished talking and sat with his head in his hands sobbing followed by a few minutes of palpable silence.

"I know Michael. I know... here I got you something else." She shifted on the floor to reach into the hip pocket on her left side coming up with a tightly clasped fist. "Here, hold out your hand."

He took it gently from her the weight of the gold wedding band pressing into his palm like a burden. "Martine I.."

"It's okay Michael, you are my husband and everything will be okay."

He turned his face down, he couldn't look her in the eye. Not now. "How will I be able to reach you? Are you staying here?"

"No.. I have family in L.A., I'm going that way for a while as soon as I'm cleared to travel."

"Please stay safe."

"I will."

When he stood the filthy water sloshed around the tub and coiled over the drain looking for escape. The towels were damp but he dried off as best he could and took the sack of clothes she had brought. It contained standard slacks, a sweater, underwear, socks, shoes, and an overcoat, he recognized it all as his own and put it on under her watchful gaze. The fresh clothes helped him feel more like a man again and he thanked them both profusely for the gesture and their help before he set off on his way. He tucked the wedding band into his pocket but inside his suitcase he packed the soiled costume, just in case.


	15. Of Danger

"Martine you know Hans Jorgensen was assaulted by a man matching the description of your husband?"

"Davis, I have had no contact with Michael." She sighed, it had been two weeks since she had pulled him from the shore and the first of the colleagues help had obviously turned disastrous. It was troubling news.

"Look we just have to make sure. He's a mass murderer now, we're looking at 18 counts of homicide."

"I just don't have time for this anymore. You guys have been watching me day and night. Obviously whatever has happened to Michael he has no memory of me. I need to get on with my life."

Davis sipped a cold can of Pepsi as he chatted. "Well he remembers Jorgensen, the two used to correspond didn't they?"

"Yes, they both were doing similar research I think."

They both stared in uncomfortable silence while Davis downed more soda, obviously agitated, and let out a long sigh. "Look they're dropping you from the investigation. I need some kind of info to continue the extra police protection! Just tell me that he called you or sent you a text. I don't know, anything will work!"

"I don't need the protection though. I want to head out west and stay with my aunt, I can't do that with all these people checking on me."

"But if the monster comes to find you.."

At that she rose from her seat. "DO NOT. Do not call him that! Whatever may have happened to him he's still a man!" Officers around the precinct glanced over at the sudden outburst in alarm so she sat back down calmly and folded her hands demurely in her lap. "Officer Davis, I don't need your services anymore. I need to go. Am I free to go?"

He sighed. The agitation was understandable, the lady had been living her life with police check-ins and questionings for almost a month now. "Yeah Ms. Bancroft, you're free to go."

She rose from the wooden chair and nodded "Davis." before she left.

He filled out the paperwork later that night to extend the police watch. Something just wasn't right with her and every bone in his body agreed in harmony with him.

* * *

_The southbound bus would be easy enough, it would go right through Nevada but no farther west. The western bus would go to Oregon, then he'd have to switch to go to California but he couldn't transfer during the day._

He hissed in annoyance. This is all far too complicated to navigate. Except he knew it wasn't. It was just a layer of fog clouding his mind, demanding he drink from some poor soul to clear his thoughts and gain precious moments of focus. He had described it as a thirst but that was woefully inadequate as a portrayal. The truth was that it was more like a lust, one that halted your judgement and demanded your attention as it enslaved you completely. He was improving. Mapping it out and learning how to take what he needed without killing. Though he knew if he ignored it too much longer he'd black out and simply wake up caked with blood and no memory of whom he had killed or what he had done. The least desirable of circumstances, still he put off feeding reassuring himself of his capability to decipher a plan.

 _The train! Ah! He could ride a passenger train to L.A. and simply sleep in his room by day. It would be expensive of course but anything was worth seeing Martine again._  It had been weeks since he'd at least been able to view her face. He wanted to hold her and talk but sadly to inform her that so far her plan was failing.

Spider-man interfered in his meeting with Hans, along with the man they called the Human Torch. They had claimed Martine had contacted them, as had the mutants known as the X-men but Michael knew it was actually the police trying to use her to get to him. The battles he had fought these past weeks tarnished his determination. He fondled the ring in his pocket. His wedding band, it even matched the engagement ring he had given her. It seemed to hold so much promise in it's small metal frame.

 _Three night's travel tops and I can find her. Somewhere. Somehow._  Then he could take her with him and find the others, Samuel Harkins in London, Ronson Slade in Scotland. Both blood researchers he had known in his travels, and both held the possibility of helping him find a cure.

He fished a wad of bills from his breast pocket and counted them, surely enough for a ticket. It wouldn't be far now.

* * *

Her aunt's place was huge and she was hardly an inconvenience in any way but still Martine tried hard to stay under everyone's radar. Her family was doting in the most condescending of ways and she was sick of the pity, the publicity, and the constant misinformation in the media. They were even making a TV movie out of Morbius' life, _a TV movie!_ It was an outrage! Of course her family believed everything they heard. They lapped it up. The idiots.

She tried to quiet her thoughts as she walked the sunset strip enjoying the anonymity among the throngs of tourists and shoppers. Here she could just be alone with her thoughts. She thumbed around the gold and diamond ring in her pocket. A reminder of his love. A reminder that she needed to help him in any way she could but without any resources she was stumped. The FBI had frozen his assets, the apartment declined letting her renew Michael's lease, she had almost nothing.

In her spare time she devoured any book she could find about vampirism, anything from pop culture to psychological analysis of vampiric criminals, and she was amassing quite a collection. Actually stopping at the bookstore wouldn't be a bad idea, maybe they'd have something new.

The used bookstore on her street had adapted and survived to the current economy reluctantly, adding in a cafe' after years of customer nagging. Mostly it just touted a massive collection of used volumes stacked in no particular order with little thought given to even date of publication or genre. To truly find anything you had to crawl through shelves until something caught your eye, then pray you can get it out from under the stack without an avalanche.

Today she found a good spot and started hunting when she spied a nice paperback by Konstantinos that she had not yet read.  _Well that is a must buy! Just have to reach it._

Martine was not a tall woman and attempts to climb the shelf could prove disastrous. She bit her lip to the side while plotting her attack.

"Please allow me." A taller man in his forties with short fair hair reached up and got the book down gently holding it out for her. He was dressed oddly in colorful robes.

"Umm.. thank you." She tentatively took the book from his hand and leafed through it.

"A good read I assure you. I don't see you here often?"

Oh I'm here quite a bit really." She tried to make it obvious that she had no interest in conversation by not even looking up when suddenly a thought unsettled her. "Wait.. how did you know which book I wanted?"

His face twisted into a smirk. "Oh I figured with a husband like yours you'd want this one."

Before she could react he muttered something in latin and her body froze unable to walk or speak. Her eyes darted around in panic but no one else was nearby to see them.

"Now, come along. We have work to do and a vampire to catch." He motioned with his arm and she obediently followed.


	16. Blood and Demons

Morbius stood before the cult of Daemond. He had been played as a pawn these past few weeks in a battle between Daemond the satanic priest and the intergalactic race known as the Caretakers. Both were unconcerned with ethics. Both had nearly driven Michael mad. Before that he fought a horrible cult known as Hell-Fire.

It had been a busy month.

He was done playing along with mad men and monsters though, he was here for Daemond's hostage, his wife, Martine. The scientist in him rejected all he had been exposed to as complete bull shit, but standing here facing down his wife in a trance and a room of conjured demons the last traces of giving a shit about any part of reality fled him. It didn't matter. He didn't matter. All that mattered was Martine.

"Daemond. You don't want to do this. I am a man with nothing to lose. I will destroy you." He looked as though he meant every word.

Daemond did nothing more than laugh and direct his minions to attack with a flick of his wrist.

"Well, that settles it then." Morbius dodged the brainwashed Martine's slash with a sickle-shaped knife and plowed into three demons raking their flesh with his claws. He turned his mind off and let himself shift mentally to the horrible beast he had become. Sometimes it had its advantages.

Teeth ripped through fingers and spat them out like cigarette butts onto the marble floor. Claws rent entrails like blood soaked streamers from newly made corpses. He raised his arms and let out an inhuman screech of a yell ending with the sound of blood gurgling in his throat, two demons dead, two fleeing. Yes, fleeing his presence. Martine sliced at him again but she was only human, even being controlled by Daemond her slowness made an easily avoidable obstacle to Morbius. He jumped over her gliding in mid air towards Daemond himself who now looked terrified.

The vampire was an easy capture earlier and had even been under his control but the beast had broken his spell by nothing more than sheer will, he had no idea that the vampire was this capable. Daemond fled with Morbius in close pursuit but the Caretakers had already initiated their attack. The sudden exchange of laser fire and dust seemed to cloud his vision as weapon's fire rained down and the noise became overwhelming to his enhanced senses.

It was at that moment a knife plunged into the flesh of his shoulder and he reacted on pure predatory instinct turning on the attacker.

_Oh god. Martine no._

He watched it play out as though his body were a marionette whose strings he did not hold. He crushed her hand forcing her to drop the knife and loomed over her fangs exposed.

 _No. No. NO. GOD NO. PLEASE STOP!_  His mind shrieked too late, fang hit flesh and flesh parted. The first swallow was bliss so pure he crumpled to his knees, the second almost torturous.

_Please oh god please stop! I'll do anything just let GO OF HER!_

_LET GO!_

His internal screams must have worked as his jaw unclenched and while shaking he pried his teeth back from her skin.  _So much blood. Too much blood. Oh god. Apply pressure, don't panic. Whatever you do don't panic._ "Martine...?"

She opened her eyes to look at him with refound recognition, Daemond's spell was broken. "Michael? Oh god Michael!" but she was weak he could tell.

"Hold on. I'm going to get you to a doctor!"

"But Michael, you are a doctor." She seemed to be drifting off to sleep. "Ooh and what about Daemond and..."

"I don't care!" He lifted her with red tears in his eyes and flew.

* * *

Morbius stepped into the ER doors and screamed. "I need a doctor NOW!" The entire hospital seemed to jump at his call. Guests in the waiting room fled and two nurses ran over with a wheeled bed. He placed her on it gently. "Sir what happened?"

"Blood loss. A lot. Please." One of the nurses radioed and ran her bed down the hall into the ER while the other grabbed a tablet of paper. "Do you know her blood type? Are you family?"

"Yes, it's A positive. I'm her husband. Her name is Martine Bancroft." He stood with his arms drooped at his sides in defeat wearing his costume and covered in patches of blood both human and demon. Some dripped from the hair on his chin and hit the floor. The nurse didn't even bat an eyelash. Security though was rushing him guns drawn.

"Stop, hold it where you are!"

Morbius took a step back and heard the click of a trigger being squeezed.

He yelled "Tell her I'm sorry!" and ran.

* * *

Martine blinked her eyes open to the brightly lit hospital room. Daytime she thought to herself. There was a nurse there changing out some fluids dripping to a feed in her right arm.

"Morning sunshine. How are you?"

"Uuuuh... sore. Very sore. Where am I?"

"You're at Saint Vincent Medical Center. Are you well enough to talk? There are a lot of men here to talk to you." She smiled.

"Are any of them named Michael?"

"I don't know hun, what's he look like?"

"Oh, pale, dark hair, you'd know him if you saw him." Martine smiled but it was half-hearted. She knew he was gone. It was too risky for him here. She reached up to feel her neck and found it bound in cotton and tape.

"Oh hun, don't mess with that."

"Yes, please don't!" A middle-aged doctor with dark skin and curly brown hair stepped in through the curtain. "Hi Martine, I'm doctor Siebenthal and this is officer Cassidy. Can we ask you some questions today?" The short female officer followed him, her face showed that she was completely unimpressed with this assignment.

"Sure, ask away." At this point there was no denying it. They no doubt had footage of Michael carrying her in, for Christ's sake she had bite marks in her neck!

"Okay, you are Martine Bancroft?"

"Yep"

"Thirty-one years old?"

"Yep"

"Do you know where you are Ms. Bancroft?"

"I'm at St' Vincent in Los Angeles California."

"Do you ummm.. you know one Michael Morbius."

"You betcha. Intimately."

Cassidy chimed in "This isn't some joke Martine!" but the doctor hushed her and made her back off.

"Did Morbius do this?"

"Probably."

"What do you mean probably?"

"I mean I was brainwashed at the time by some demon cult leader and he saved my life and probably went back to save the lives of the whole LA area but yeah, the bite is most likely his doing. All signs point to yes." She snickered as the doctor stood in shock and Cassidy looked like she was going to explode.

Cassidy tried her best to stay calm while choking out her question. "And where can we find Michael?"

"Gee, have you tried the nearest blood bank? I mean vampires, right?"

Cassidy's jaw dropped open and she stuttered for words. "Martine Bancroft, you're under arrest for harboring a fugitive of the law. Anything you say can and will be held against you.."

"Yeah yeah yeah. I didn't do anything but get rescued and bitten but by all means get me the fuck out of here already."

* * *

Morbius finished the conflict, both sides destroying the other in one poorly planned move, but when he returned to stare at the outside of the hospital under the cover of night he knew she was already gone. There was a hollowness in his chest, a feeling of vast emptiness and fear but he was sure he'd gotten her there safely in time. There was no way she was dead. Perhaps they released her to her family, or she was at the station being interrogated.

There was no way to know. No one to contact. He had found and lost her so quickly. The best he could do is pick up the search again. Find the people that he was told by her to find and see if they held any help for his plight.

He walked away a man in tatters. The best part of him was gone, he had no god of faith but still prayed silently that she was safe.


	17. A Little Help

Three months of searching and only failures. He had fought monsters like himself, battled a vampire hunter, and even tangled with real vampires, things he didn't even believe existed. The researchers were dead ends, literally. Both now deceased. One a monster of his own doing, much like Michael himself, one a vampire destroyed by stake. There was no hope for him elsewhere.

But New York was his home and he had to return. Some small part of him hoped for her to be there but the old apartment was now owned by someone unfamiliar. Only the vaguest bit of her scent remained behind and he stood outside the building like an addict remembering the day she had asked to come back to his home. The day she had made love to him and curled under his chin to sleep.

"Martine..." He slumped on the ground in despair.  _There had to be something to go on, any kind of clue._

"Jack!" He jumped up in hysterics. _Yes, Jack would know something! He would still live in the city, hopefully at his old address. It was a lead at least!_  He leapt into the air and flew.

* * *

Jack lived in a slightly lower end singles apartment on the seventeenth floor of a decently tall building downtown and if scents were any indicator he was still there.

Morbius took time to change fully into normal clothes and smear enough makeup on to pass for human from afar. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and went to the doorman. I'm here to see Jack, he lives on the seventeenth floor apartment number ten?"

The doorman, a small older man gave him a once over but shrugged. "Kinda late for a visit isn't it?" Morbius gritted his teeth. "Please just call him."

The man picked up the rotary-style phone and dialed, after five rings Jack picked up. "Yes sir, you have a visitor. Name of...?" He motioned his hand in a circle to prompt the information.

 _Shit. He couldn't give his name because it was plastered everywhere._  Michael choked out a response "Emil. Emil Nikos." and the man relayed the information. Michael heard Jack cuss at the phone but the man hung it up and hit the buzzer. "Go ahead sir."

_Crisis averted._

* * *

"Emil Nikos? What the fuck were you thinking?! Are you trying to get caught?" Jack was furious.

"I'm sorry. I needed to see you and I need a place to stay."

Jack ran his hand over his head and scratched his neck nervously. "It's all right man, I'm sorry I barked at you. I've kinda got some issues."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, they're just... well they're  _you_  level issues."

"For fucks sake Jack, what happened?"

"I... Fuck I need a drink. You want something?"

"Jack, you aren't telling me." Morbius sat on his worn in couch and tented his hands in his lap.

"Look it's cool if you crash here with me but it'll be the full moon in three days... and I'm kind of a werewolf." He circled the room as he talked.

"I'm sorry. I must not have heard you correctly. I think I have something schizophrenic in my ear."

Jack continued pacing back and forth. "Hey fuck you, you Dracula looking fucker!"

Morbius raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just. It's a family thing and most times I'm fine, like half wolf and coherent but on night of the full moon I have to lock myself up for my own safety."

"I think it's a bug. A schizophrenic bug in my ear."

Jack stopped pacing to turn angrily at Morbius but he was sitting there smiling at him. "You are some damn piece of work you know that?"

"Oh come on. Give me some credit. Quite frankly that explains why I'd never seen you around a full moon. I've gotten a bit more open minded lately.. I've ummm.. seen some things. Also your apartment reeks of wolf, kind of a tipoff." He had the first genuine laugh in months.

Jack visibly relaxed and sat down next to him. "You well fed?"

"Yeah, I stopped for a bite on the way over here."

Jack craned over laughing. "What the hell man? You doing standup now?"

"No I just.." He turned seriously to Jack and grinned. "It's nice to not be alone anymore."

"I hear that. You want that drink now?"

"Please."

Jack went into the kitchen and retrieved two longneck beers handing one to Michael. "Hope your okay with this. I can't stand that shit you and Emil drank. Stuff tasted like gasoline and licorice."

Morbius popped the cap and took a sip. His body reacted in protest but he swallowed it. "What is this? Piss in a bottle?"

"It's Budweiser."

"Then the answer is yes." Morbius tipped the bottle for another swig. He prayed he could even process alcohol anymore. He hadn't tried since he had turned.

"So you're still a neckbiter. I take it no luck with the others?"

"I had the opposite of luck. Negative luck even." He sipped his beer. "You searching for a cure?"

"Yeah but I have more of a supernatural problem rather than a science problem."

"I could still try to help."

"Speaking of help, what the hell are you doing here? What did you need?"

"I'm trying to find.."

"Wait wait. Don't tell me!" Jack raised his arms as though gazing through an imaginary crystal ball. Morbius heaved a sigh in response. "Martine right?"

He gave Jack a cold hard stare with his eyebrows flat against the tops of his eyes.

"Ding ding ding! I think I won."

"Let me just reassure you then that you are indeed still a loser despite being correct."

"Now is that any way to treat your best friend?" Jack laughed but Michael visible sunk into the couch.

"I'm sorry, you are my best friend. I just I have to find her, talk to her."

"Look, I know how it is. I've made love to some women in my day.."

"No, you've made love  _at_  some women."

Jack took a big chug of his beer, it was starting to get warm. " _BUT_  I think you need to let her go Michael."

"I can't, I need her."

"Mike she almost got killed."

"Heard about that did you?" He nervously grinned and then flattened his lip down. Jack was right, he was ruining her life.

"Yep, on the news. You know she finally got released. They couldn't make the charges stick."

Michael put his beer down and leaned forward in alarm. "Wait what?! They tried to charge her? With what? When?! Where is she?!"

"Calm down Mike. They tried to charge her with aiding and abetting you. They couldn't prove it but she's been cleared of all charges. I don't know where she's at, probably her parent's place in Hartford."

Michael drained the beer and got up with a start. "I have to go to her. He looked glum. I have to let her know I won't hold her back anymore.." He looked forlorn at the decision so Jack patted him on the shoulder.

"Dude, be careful, she's being watched like a hawk, they're convinced you'll come back to her. WAIT! Wait. I have a plan."

Michael sat and held his head in his hand. "If it'll get me alone with her I'll do anything."

"You won't have to do much. They aren't watching for me."

* * *

The house in Connecticut was one of those recently built affairs that Russell had heard referred to as a mc'mansion. the sprawling grounds were immaculately maintained and the front porch a large wooden deck with black iron framing. He whistled and hopped off his bike, carrying a small package with him.

The front door had no bell that he could find so he rapped softly with his knuckles. An older lady with professionally styled grey hair opened the door only a crack.

"Whatever you're selling we don't want any." She started to close the door on him.

"I'm sorry miss, there must be some mistake. I'm here to see Martine Bancroft." She looked him over from his dusty leather jacket to his hole-filled blue jeans. "It's about some of Martine's confiscated property? I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. I'm Jack, I work for the NYPD but I'm off duty right now they just wanted me to run this out to her."

She seemed happy at the news. "Of course! Come in! I'll go get Martine." She scurried off leaving Jack alone in the main hall.

"Ugh tacky tacky.." He whispered under his breath at the gold-framed paintings of still fruit. Martine came running down the hall, her heels clicking on the tile.

She whispered excitedly. "Jack, what are you doing here? I can't believe this!" She snatched the package from him and shook it.

"Hey now. Don't act suspicious. If the police ask I was a friend. I saw the patrols up the street, the back way through Cedar Park Lane is clear. If your family asks you've seen me at one of the stations okay? This couldn't come through mail and I'm not gonna talk about it in case there are bugs about, just open the envelope first and you have to use the contents tonight."

She looked up at him quizzically but nodded. "Thank you Jack, you know I was wrong about you."

"People usually are. Now go, shoo!" He flipped his fingers at her in a hurrying motion.

Martine dodged her parents and took the package straight to her room, immediately tearing open the unmarked brown wrapping. Inside was another smaller box and an envelope with a hotel key card. The envelope had an address crudely scrawled on it in pen, the number twenty two under the address. The smaller box held Michael's wedding band. She didn't understand the intent but she got dressed in a black cotton housedress and snuck out without saying a word to her family. Better if her parents didn't know where she was going. She used Jack's advice and the back road to avoid the patrols. It was almost dark and she wanted to be there when he awoke.

The hotel was a small out of the way two-story place apart from the urban sprawl so dense in this area. She looked around to make sure she wouldn't be followed and parked so that her license plate couldn't be read from the street. The twenty-second room was up the stairs and she flew there on pure adrenaline. The key worked and the reader glowed green, Michael turned the handle for her and pulled her inside twirling her in his arms, she almost dropped what she was carrying in a brown paper bag.

"You're safe! Oh god Michael I was so worried." She snuggled down into his shoulder and held him.

"I'm safe, I needed to know that you were okay. I hurt you Martine.. I can never apologize enough." He closed his eyes and squeezed out two blood red tears.

"It's okay. You saved me."

"Tell me were you followed? And wow, you cut your hair short.." Her hair was now a light wavy bob up behind her ears.

"No, I was very careful and yeah is it still pretty?" She was wearing it well, Michael thought it odd but cute.

"It looks beautiful as always."

She produced the bag to him. "Here, it's a gift."

He cautiously took the heavy parcel and pulled from it a long clear bottle of ouzo. He visibly shook.

"I know it's not the nice kind you get from Greece but.."

"Thank you. It means a lot." He sat the bottle down beside the hotel TV. "Martine, I'm sorry about the investigation."

"That wasn't your fault."

"It was though, all of this is my fault. It was my doing."

"Hush. Are you okay? Have you eaten?"

"I have. I'm getting better about taking what I need and not killing." He smiled as though that would make a difference. He still had to kill every so often. The hunger demanded it. "Martine, I called you here for a reason. I made a decision.." He drifted off without the ability to raise his voice back up, at one point it cracked into a horrible tone. "Martine I want to leave you."

She froze up. "What? Why? What did I do?"

"Nothing. You did nothing but I can't continue to endanger you. Look what we have to do just to meet."

"I don't care! You'll find a cure eventually then we can be together."

"Martine I'm a danger to you. I'm a danger to everyone."

"I don't care."

"I could hurt you."

"I don't care."

"I could hurt your family!"

"I really don't care!"

"Martine!" He lunged at her, baring his fangs and clasping his claws around her wrists slamming her to the bed. With a snarl he flexed his jaw and bent over her throat. She braced herself with her teeth clenched and her eyes squeezed shut. He stayed leaning over her unmoving until she cautiously opened one eye. He was normal, simply poised on top of her staring. "So.. you don't care?" He backed up off of her. "You deserve better than me Martine."

"Michael I.." She reached for the words but there were none. The truth was that she wasn't afraid of him but his bite had been one of excruciating pain. Romance novels were filthy liars about that.

"Martine I brought you money. I've been acquiring it. I want you to go back to college and get a degree."

"Michael please. You're my husband.. the shy introvert who can't stop smiling around me?" She sounded pleading and her hands slipped over his to caress his fingers.

"I'm not. Not anymore. I'm a hindrance. I'm a handicap Martine! I want better for you and I need the strength to stay away from you." It came out of his throat angrily. If he had to be a monster to push her away from him then so be it. But looking over at her budding tears and her ever-reddening cheeks he lost his nerve. "Please Martine. I need that from you. I want you to do well without me, be happy Martine, that's all I want." He pulled up a steel briefcase and sat it beside the bed.

"Michael..." She was crying. "Michael can we have one last night together? Just one."

He weighed strength against the consequences in his mind and his weakness won. "One. One night." He reached over and kissed her on the lips parting them with his and sliding his tongue into hers. She tasted sweet. Thank god he had just drunk his fill of blood, hopefully it would keep him in check.

An attempt was made to be caring and gentle for her but she unzipped her dress in front of his gaze to let it slide off, revealing only black lacey wisps of underwear, no bra. While his thirst was in control there would be no keeping him in check this night. He wanted her badly.

He resumed the exploratory kiss and ran his hands over her like mad, trying to imprint every touch, sound, smell, and taste to his memory for later retrieval. He didn't even take off his clothes, he simply unbuttoned his shirt to lay open at the chest and unzipped his pants freeing himself from them. Her underwear were ripped in an attempt to slide them off but she didn't care, and just shook them clear of the bed. He towered over her, being much larger and thicker built than he used to be but he still had the slim waist and she wrapped her legs around it pulling his chest close with her arms like she had done the first night they were together.

"Martine I.."

"Shhhhh, it's okay." She guided him into her while two tears drifted down her face to the pillow. It had been so long for him and he had never been in her and only her before, no condoms or barriers. He tried to take it as easy as he could bare, pulling out fully before reentering, pushing slowly into her. He thumbed at her clit while thrusting until she was matching his rhythm and meeting him in kind.

"Oh god Martine.." He rasped through clenched teeth. His fangs elongated but he forced them back with iron will.  _No. No blood._  His eyes glowed red in the dark and he closed them and turned from her only to have her tilt his head back with her hands, feeling his jaw and demanding that he look at her.

"Just one night Martine... and then I have to have the strength to go." He leaned down and kissed her hard.

"It's okay Michael. I'll always love you." He forced a smile and wrapped both arms around her lifting her up to face him with her thighs and legs wrapped around his waist. He flexed his hips to be able to thrust deep into her until he started to feel the pressure build in his head. "Aaah.. Martine. Yeessss." He lowered his head to her neck and she tensed but no bite came, he stifled a moan into her skin as he found release deep inside her. When he had stopped twitching she was still wrapped tight in his arms and he refused to let go.

The two stayed together until dawn.


	18. Enemies

"Mike are you okay? Jesus you look like you've had the shit beat out of you! Hey talk to me Mike, it's been three weeks where the hell did you go?!" Jack Russell in his shaggy brown half-werewolf form held open the badly in need of repair 17th floor window at two in the morning to let in the vampire who looked to be in the same condition.

Once inside Michael gave one weary look towards Jack from the corner of a blood-encrusted eye and collapsed on the floor. Jack ran his hands through his fur and cussed.  _Goddamn vampire running around and risking his life, one of these days someone will follow the idiot back here and then what!? Throw them both in the sack and toss away the key probably._  He looked down at Morbius in frustration and gave him a slight kick in the shin. There was no reaction.

"Aw bloody hell.. You know for a genius you really are an idiot!" He grabbed Michael by the ankles and dragged his limp body face down across the living room to the couch. There he propped the man up into a sitting position and went to Michael's mini-fridge to snatch two stolen blood packs. Thank god he kept it stocked. "Hey, Hey Mike wake up. Here, you smell this?" He cut one blood bag with the tip of his pinky claw and jostled it below Michael's nose.

Michael's left eye twitched and his nose drew in a rush of air, the pack was snatched out of Jacks hands and the vampire bit into it like an overripe tomato splattering blood down his chest. He gulped it hungrily.

"Well, you're awake at least."

Michael's only reply was a growl so Jack simply handed over the second bag nonchalantly. He discarded the first empty bag and proceeded to rip into and suck down the second. When the final bag was left empty he lay back against the couch with his eyes closed panting.

"Well. Good morning sunshine." Jack smirked.

"..Thank you. I needed that."

"I could tell." Jack got up from his crouch to get a spare towel from the counter of the adjoined kitchen area to mop up the blood splatter. Since Mike started staying with him clean towels were a necessity and blood splatters were common occurances.

"You have no idea what I've been through."

"It looks like perhaps a wheat thresher, or maybe a combine? Do tell." Jack smirked.

Michael did look like hell, bruised in splotches of purple-blue everywhere on his arms and with a single black eye. His jaw had to be hurting him because he flinched as he talked. "I went out to Reed Richard's lab.. to see if he could help me."

"Yeah like three weeks ago.."

"And I got distracted.."

"By some tasty young woman." Jack noticed how Michael didn't even bother denying it and just kept rambling.

"And the Thing attacked me." He paused mid sentence. "The literal hero known as the Thing.. you know of the Fantastic Four?"

"Oh god I see where this is going."

"And we wound up on another planet, ANOTHER FUCKING PLANET mind you, and we crush this idiot's plot.. you ever heard of the Living Eraser because I HAVE NOT, and I will be damned if that is not the worst name one of these costumed buffoons has ever donned but I digress.."

"Cut to the chase before I break out laughing please."

Morbius looked disgruntled but continued "We saved an alien king and princess and I ran off to a different planet with some tech to... isolate myself, but then this asshole called the Empathoid got me and I came back to earth where Spiderman helped me battle off the Empathoid who had control of my brain and then he let me go."

"Whoah there, the Empathoid or Spider-man?"

"Spider-man."

"Spider-man let you fucking go?! You must be the luckiest sonofabitch I have ever met!"

Michael turned towards him with a glare. "Jack, I swear to god I will punch you."

"Ooh right... Good point. Maybe not the luckiest, but hey, you're in one piece! You know most people would pay for a trip like that."

"I highly doubt anyone would pay to be me." Michael got up from the couch and walked over to the mini-fridge helping himself to another blood bag. He bit the tip of the tube end off and sucked on it like a straw, it reminded Jack of drinking Capri Sun when he was little.

"Hey you rescued a king and a princess at least! That sounds baddass. She hot?"

Michael turned bright red and stuttered. "Like a green version of Martine. Blonde hair and everything..."

"Geeze what is it with you and blondes?"

"It's not the hair color, just ..her."

Jack got up and slapped him on the back causing Michael to cough and dribble a little blood. "You did the right thing Mike."

"I know I did..." Michael's lip visibly twitched and Jack waited for the inevitable question that always followed whenever conversation turned to Martine. "So... Is she doing okay?"

"Dammit Mike."

"I just need to know."

"She's fine. I checked up on her a week back. She's in her second semester classes now, doin' good far as I can tell. I've been keeping my distance."

"Is she... seeing anyone?"

Jack picked up the throw pillow from the end of his couch and hurled it at Michael. "You're a fucking shit!" Morbius caught the pillow and placed it carefully on the nearby coffee table, he finished his blood pack with a slurp.

"Well excuse me for asking!" Michael wadded up the empty plastic and made a net shot into the living room trash can, he then folded his hands in his lap and slumped his back to crane over the floor. The truth was he didn't really want to know anyways. "I'm going to my room okay?"

"Yeah sure. Go play in your damn lab. Not like I ain't seen ya' in a month."

Morbius gave him a glare but decided a retreat was best so he sauntered into the next room. Michael's absence revealed a large smear of a blood stain on the seat of the weathered beige sofa.

"And don't think for a minute that I'm cleaning this up!"

* * *

The lab was tiny by Michael's standards, initially a small storage area. It was big enough for some burners, a laptop computer, fridge equipment, microscopes, and other things he could acquire easily.

For the more technical machinery he had to sneak into ESU at night, not an easy task anymore. It seemed like Spider-man had more occurrences of being sighted on campus than anywhere else in the city, almost like he was seeking Morbius out. Michael tried to keep the borrowing of ESU equipment at a minimum when he could and he only walked there in disguise, thus far effective. "Have to run these samples.. Don't want to push my luck though." He mumbled to himself. This was aside from the fact that Michael's blood supply was now four weeks old and he could tell its age easily as he drank. Old blood lost oxygen and iron, it wouldn't do much for him. He'd need fresh soon.

Morbius sat back in his desk chair and opened a simple black notebook, inside is where he kept his tabulations and notes on Spider-man. He clicked a pen and started to write talking under his breath as he took notes. "Danger sense likely, webbing sample.. Oh that's right."

He fished in his pocket and pulled out a bit of soft white powder. "Hmmm... breaks down over time. No matter."

He circled some numbers and closed the book. Spider-man had become a near constant hindrance but by avoiding webbing and tiring him out before direct attacks he should be beatable, possibly even with little effort. Probably why he let Michael go so easily, the fight with both him and the Empathoid tired the wall-crawler out too much. Michael smiled. "Next time we meet I'll be ready for him."


	19. Remission

Fall in New York was unseasonably cold this year even with the lack of snow the forty degree temperatures were constant with dips into the thirties.

Morbius didn't feel it like other men, even though he was still living his circulation was as such that he adapted to the chill well. Not so for the rest of the populace. The students of ESU rushed from one destination to the next bundled in as much padded wool as they could layer on themselves successfully. The weather made them easy targets unable to focus on their surroundings but Michael needed the perfect circumstance to draw out his nemesis. He had even fed earlier from an unsuspecting young woman in preparation. This was the night, it's now or nothing. one good crowded area, pick a victim, lure out Spider-man then drag him into the cold and wear him down. Michael had reached the end of his patience for the man, he was going to be dead by sunrise.

_One less self righteous hero._

He took refuge on the lip of a nearby clay tiled roof and hid away from the campus floodlights. Two students conversed loudly below him shouting over the whistle of the wind and Morbius stood enraptured by their plans. Something about a party, perfect. A huge group of students in one place made the ideal setting. He licked his lips at the promise and followed the boys to their car.

* * *

Already a stressful day in the life of Peter Parker and now this. He glanced all around at with aggravation. There was a crowd of maybe three-hundred people in here dressed as everything from jesters to alligators. Peter stepped to the side to make room for a waiter dressed as a penguin carrying a tray of small spinach puffs. _A costume party. And here he was in his suit and tie, that's just fabulous. Yep, this was absolutely perfect._  He had some lingering thoughts about punching Chip Martin in the arm for not sharing important details of the evening, and speak of the devil there he was making his way across the hall straight towards Peter.  _Could this evening get any worse?_

"Chip, you could have told me this was a costume party." Peter looked annoyed.

"Oh, sorry, did I forget to say that? It is the weekend before Halloween you know."

"Yeah I kind of lose track of things like that.."

"Well that's okay. Hey did you bring your camera? you could get some great shots of the party for the Bugle!"

"I'm not with the Bugle right now, I switched over to the Globe."

"Still, it's a beautiful house right?"

"House? This is huge! It's a mansion!" Peter took scope once again of the sheer size of the place. The ballroom itself could hold forty parked cars easily.

"It's my dad's place, oh hey, there he is! Hey dad!" The tall lean man in a custom-tailored suit waved to Chip and made his way through the crowd pursued by the local sheriff.

Peter recognized the man immediately. "Nice to meet you state senator Martin! Lovely house you have here." They shook hands while the sheriff stood nearby talking on his radio.

"Dad this is Peter Parker from school, he works for the Daily Globe." Chip was grinning from ear to ear.

"Well it's nice to meet you Peter. Big fan of your photos! Maybe for the next big party you could get Spider-man to make an appearance!" He chuckled and the sheriff stepped over to whisper some things into his ear. "Well I have some details to work out I have to.."

Chip chimed in "Dad is everything okay?"

"Yes son, just got the whole police force in an uproar because of that attack earlier this evening."

Peter started to feel a sense of impending dread. "An attack sir? What happened?"

"Oh just some maniac who attacked a girl and bit her. She's recovering well."

 _Oh god, not him._  Peter excused himself from the conversation but no sooner had he stepped away when a loud piercing scream was heard from upstairs. All eyes in the room shot up in alarm and beheld Morbius standing and holding the unconscious body of a young blonde woman at the top of the grand staircase. Peter ran to a closet and pulled out his Spider-man costume.  _No time to waste!_

Two men rushed Morbius but he dropped the woman and kicked the first square in the jaw hearing a loud click and sending him hurtling down the stairs. The second man wasn't so lucky as Michael caught him by the throat and held him in pinned in midair front of his snarling face and glowing red eyes. Most of the crowd stood frozen in fear unable to act, the police drew their weapons but the boy effectively blocked any angle to shoot safely. The sheriff shouted the usual threats but Morbius ignored him, he was far too gone to listen to reason.

A sharp pain to the back of the head sent Morbius forward to regain his balance as cheers erupted from the crowd. "Spider-man has him!"

 _This was it, the moment he'd hoped for._  Michael flew back into the room dodging shots from the officers and turning his inertia back towards the hero at the top of the landing. Claws gripped into Peter's shoulder at impact as Morbius carried them both through an ornate glass window onto a second floor balcony. Here they could be alone. The rain was now falling in wet sheets near freezing and thunder sounded in the distance. Morbius smiled and let the man go.

Peter scrambled to his feet and tried to aim a web. It hit a section of railing missing Morbius entirely.

"Pull it together hero." Morbius chided him and laughed. Peter had never seen him like this, before he'd always had evidence of the humanity still trapped within, some kind of kindness or pause but this time he was acting as pure predator!

"I see you've given up on your cure." Peter put his back to the wall to limit the possible areas of attack. Morbius paced about fifteen feet away.

"Fool, there is no cure. I've searched and failed. I cannot end my pain but YOU, you and your self-righteous idiocy. You I can end!"

"No way you horror novel reject." Peter slid his feet and hands onto the wall to give him a good anchoring point. "I'm not resting in peace until I put you away!" He aimed and shot a web line right onto the vampire's shoulder but before he could wrap Morbius up the vampire grabbed the webline in his clawed fist and yanked it back pulling Spider-man right off the wall and into the iron railing at full force. It was completely unexpected and Peter was knocked prone to the ground, his head was pounding in pain.

Michael stood over the man who had given him so much grief and made his decision. The vampire side of him was in complete control. He drove one clawed hand down onto his head hitting him as hard as a train and ripped the fabric from his neck. Peter panicked knowing what was next as Morbius bent down and sunk his fangs in with a growl.

It felt like fire in every nerve spreading through him but at that very moment lightning flashed hitting the two interlocked men in a wash of light and electricity. Michael's jaw dropped wide open and he wrapped his arms around his own chest screaming at the pain. Peter stood up. M _an, fate can be weird_. The lightning didn't even feel like anything to him but Morbius was obviously flailing in agony.  _Flailing and falling! Oh no!_  Peter caught Morbius and lowered the now unconscious man to the ground. wait.. he's human! No fangs, no claws! Just a normal man again, he's cured!

The police took Morbius into custody while he slept, and Peter bid him a last goodbye and the hope that this would end all of the man's problems. Though he somewhat suspected that they were just beginning.

* * *

Michael stirred in the hospital bed and groaned, it had been years since he had felt that much pain.. not since the accident that made him a vampire. The bright lights faded until he could see two doctors standing over him and two armed officers pistols pointed. His arms were tied down to the bed.

"Hello Michael." The first doctor a fair haired tan man approached the bed. "Is it okay if I call you Michael?"

He hissed and bared his teeth at the doctor and the man shrank in reaction.

"Okay.. well how about I just call you Doctor Morbius? Is that okay?"

Michael laid still. Something was wrong, the pain wasn't going away and he felt weak. He stared in silence at the men.

"Okay then Morbius, I'm Doctor Clarence. this here is my associate Drey. We've been checking your test results and you're all good to go on your transfer to the police station. Okay?"

Michael panicked. It was not okay! How would he get blood, how can he contact Jack? Why is this pain not going away?! Michael cleared his throat making Drey, a skinny nervous man of short stature, jump. "What's wrong with me?" He tried to keep his tone deep and demanding.

"Well you're human and you're well enough.."

"I'm human! Let me see my face! Bring me a mirror!"

Drey looked nervously around but Clarence walked up to the bed and loostened the arm straps helping Michael sit up. The two guards put their guns down but kept their hands at the ready while Dr. Clarence retrieved a small pocket mirror. Morbius took it cautiously and gazed inside. He was pale but peach toned with his deep blue eyes and normal teeth.

He screamed in fright and then doubled over with laughter.


	20. A Short Respite

"We're transferring you out to the UCLA radiation lab in the morning, and don't get to cocky either. If it were up to me we would have fried you by now." The guard stood at the doorway to the visitation stalls eager to move on, Morbius gave him the creeps something fierce.

Michael just stared. "I am allowed visitors?"

"Just now yeah, you get stall five. Just sit tight and we buzz them in. Your conversation will be monitored. You get fifteen minutes." He just pointed in with slight aggravation so Morbius took the hint and walked the beige brick hall to booth five, a structure composed of a Plexiglas wall with a corded phone and an empty chair on the other side. He sat and waited with all the nervousness of an expectant father to his relief Jack strolled in and picked up his side of the phone. Michael followed suit.

"Well, you did it at least. Kudos."

Michael smiled and tried to hold back the tears. "Yes, I'm quite human now. How did you get in? I thought these were only for family?

"Funny thing that.. someone brought me."

Michael glanced up to see Martine standing beside Jack wearing a long overcoat and hiding her tears. Michael stood with his mouth agape in surprise.

"Martine.."

"Michael." He couldn't hear her words but he knew it from the shape her lips made. Jack rolled his eyes and held the phone over his head. Martine took it gently and held it up to her ear.

They both just stared in disbelief until Jack knocked against the glass and motioned to his wristwatch.

Michael cleared his throat but Martine spoke first. "Are you well?"

"Oh um.. yes, the doctors assure me I'm normal now... I still feel strange."

She put her hand on the glass and Michael moved his hand over it wishing he could feel the warmth of her skin.

"They say you're facing at least thirty-eight murder charges.. and then the thefts, assaults, battery.." She was sobbing.

"Please don't cry. Whatever happens I'll be fine."

"You'll be dead Michael!"

"I'll be okay. At least I'm a man again Martine." He put his other hand over his heart. "Martine are you okay?"

"Of course, I'm fine. And I caught this idiot here watching over me on campus like you told him to!" She motioned to Jack but he just continued sitting in the chair with a " _why me?_ " expression on his face.

"I swear I didn't..." He started to deny it and then just stopped. It didn't matter anymore. "Are you happy Martine?" He said with a plea.

"What?!"

"Are you happy?"

 _"No, of course not!_  Look at this Michael! You're going to get a death sentence!" She was frantic.

"I wanted you to forget about me."

"Well you can't just forget a husband."

"Please do, I don't want to hurt you more.."

_"Too fucking late."_

He winced at her words. Even Jack now looked entirely uncomfortable being between the two. "I'm so sorry."

She held her head in her hand. "I'm just here to tell you.. just promise me you'll fight it okay?"

"I will Martine."

She cleared her eyes to give him a stern look but then handed the phone to Jack, turned, and walked off. Michael pressed his face to the glass to watch her go.

"So. How's that whole human thing working for you?" Jack smiled but he could see Michael losing it. "Hey, hey look. I know the drill alright. She's safe. She got an internship at a magazine you know."

Michael delighted in any knowledge that things were looking up and forced a grin while wiping his face dry. "That's great. How are you?"

"Same shit different day." Jack chuckled.

"Good, good. Hey you hold onto that bottle of ouzo in the cabinet for me. When I get out I'll need a drink."

"Dammit Mike." Now it was Jack who was close to crying. "You really are the dumbest smart guy I know."

Michael smiled his first genuine smile of the day and the guards came to escort him back to his cell. He looked at Jack beaming and being led off and tapped his hand over his heart. Jack laughed, "Yeah buddy, low blow indeed."

Jack went out to the waiting area to find Martine crying on one of the hard plastic benches.

"You didn't tell him."

She dried some more of her tears and struggled to keep her voice flat. "I don't think he'd want to know. It would only make him feel worse."

"You're probably right." Jack sighed and nervously rubbed his arm through his shirt. "Still, it would have been one cute kid if she had made it. I'm sorry. " Jack helped her up and gave her a supportive hug.

"Yeah, she would've been smart as hell too." Martine smiled through the pain. "I'll drop you off at your place okay?"

"Yeah. I think I need to sit and have a drink for a while."

* * *

November thirteenth Morbius sat in his private cell wolfing down the breakfast they gave him. Prison food wasn't quite gourmet, but any food at all was still wondrous after only drinking blood for almost two years and so he stuffed himself full at every meal, never wasting a bite. He heard the clank of boots on the pavement outside and swallowed the last chunk of doughnut washing it down with hot black coffee.

"Michael Morbius?" The man poked his head into the cell cautiously.

"Doctor Morbius please."

UCLA Science department director Klein muttered under his breath.  _These wackos and their egos._  "I'm sorry, Doctor Morbius. We're ready for you."

Michael stood as two guards entered and handcuffed him. They were uncomfortably tight as always. He was hoping perhaps since he was going to be doing work for the lab that just this one time perhaps they could forgo the cuffs and give him some civilian clothes. No such luck.

The director filled him in on some details as they marched along in a group of four. "You will be detained at the lab and security details explained to you. There are no unauthorized personnel allowed in the lab, no coming and going freely, you will have a security detail of two armed men at all times... brace yourself here." They approached the gray metal door to the facilities rear exit and Michael shielded his eyes against the sudden barrage of sunlight. It was bright but welcome, it had been a while since he felt it on his skin. The downside to being outside of course would be the hordes of journalists and photographers laying in wait. Behind them an even larger crowd of protesters chanting and carrying picket signs behind a police blockade.

Questions were screamed to him from all angles, he did his best to turn up his chin and ignore them.

"Morbius just how many people did you kill?"

"Morbius, how do you feel about Spider-man now?"

"Doctor? What a joke, you're a killer not a doctor!"

"Are you pleading guilty to the charges?!"

"Michael Star News over here! Have you talked to Martine Bancroft since your remission?"

At the mention of her name he gulped and turned to the reporter who spoke. She was a young woman with blonde hair and cerulean blue eyes, he panicked.  _She looked just like her! Oh god.. Martine._  Michael stopped walking and stared in shock.

"Hey, keep moving."

"Morbius? Dr. Morbius?"

"Doctor are you okay?"

He didn't react just glared at the terrified woman and finally blinked opening his eyes to a new image. The woman stood before him in her green silk blazer with her brown eyes and dark brown hair, nothing like Martine. Michael snapped out of it and continued walking while being pushed by the guards.  _Seeing things now.. that's all I need._

He stepped up into the back of the prison transport van, taking a seat on the bench, the two guards sat opposite. Klein looked him over expectantly and then closed the van door to take his seat up front. Something was definitely off about the man, the security detail was a good choice.

* * *

At UCLA They finally released Michael from the handcuffs which left pink marks on his wrists, he rubbed them to regain feeling while Ruby, who was working for the school's disability services, led them around. She was a busty confident woman in her forties with dyed red hair, her demeanor betrayed her discomfort.

Okay, this is your private lab here, next door we set up a room for you with a full bathroom and shower. I'm afraid that food workers are not cleared for this area so if you need anything you'll just call this number here and we have staff that will get you what you need. Michael poked around the room eagerly. "This spectrometer is state of the art! Oh and these blood chemistry analyzers! This must have cost a fortune!"

Klein laughed. "We had all this already. Note that other scientists in the area will be dropping in to use the machines and this section of the building is closed off with guards and police at the exit so please don't try to escape you will be shot."

"I.. I wouldn't dream of it." Michael had no illusions of running. Where would he even go with no home or family?

Ruby continued where she left off. "Okay that's it then. You guys can go take your stations now. Doctor I assume you'll want to clean up so I'll give you some time alone. Call as soon as you're ready to start working."

"Yes of course." He bowed his chest to her and then stood to look into her eyes to issue a sincere thanks but what he saw when he straightened was Martine staring back at him. Morbius stood petrified as sweat dripped from his brow.

"Doctor are you okay? Doctor?"

He quickly stuttered "Y..Yes, I.. I'm fine."

The guards stepped outside at Ruby's behest and Klein glanced at him skeptically while folding his arms but decided to question him on it later. The man had been in prison for a week in solitary confinement, he probably wasn't right in the head yet. Best to give him some time to adjust. "If you need anything just call."

"Of course. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm long overdue for a change out of this prison jumpsuit."

The housing reminded him of his old college dorm. There was a collapsible futon with a mattress and sheets, cupboards with a small kitchen area, and even a makeshift collection of books for recreation.

After two weeks of a dank cell and no privacy it was paradise.


	21. The Defense

"Hi there! Ralph, Ralph Owens is the name so you're the tenant there's been so much fuss over hmm?"

"I do hope I haven't been a bother these past few months. My trial will be soon and then I'll be out of your hair so to speak." Morbius typed some results into his laptop computer and closed it putting his full attention on the other scientist. The two shook hands.

"Why you've been no bother at all doctor...?"

"Morbius, Michael Morbius."

"Ah, Morbius the genius that's right." He retrieved a small vial and folded paper from his pocket. "How are you doing? Do you need anything?"

"I was about to order dinner if you'd care to join me.. and what is that you have there?"

"Oh this? I was wondering if you could have a look-see at these blood results for me but well, keep it confidential. You know, just between us. It's for a friend."

Morbius cocked an eyebrow. "Is your ummm.. friend doing any favors for this?"

Ralph sighed. "What do you need?"

"Two things. I need some more clean blood for testing, no chemicals, no anticoagulants."

Ralph nodded "Done."

"And I need a bottle of ouzo and a pack of cigarettes. They haven't been allowing me these things." He had quit smoking before he met Martine but recent stress had him craving the sensation.  _It's not like I'm going to live long enough to die of lung cancer._

Ralph laughed, "Greek liquor? That's three things but okay, you'll have your things by tomorrow. Try and get me some clear numbers by then. I'll bring my friend by in the afternoon."

"Oh, so there really is a friend?" Morbius chuckled.

"Yes of course. I wasn't lying. You get right on that okay?" He darted off through the lab door in a hurry.

Morbius muttered under his breath. "Great. What fresh hell is this?" The man had looked far from reputable reminding Michael more of a used car salesman than a doctor. He wasted no time getting a sample into analysis and checking his results.

"Gamma radiation destroying cells and cellular destabilization from rapid growth? What kind of trick is this? This can't be human.. It's not remotely stable." Michael cursed. He had hoped it was simply a matter of doing some students grad work for them, this was a life or death situation. Worse yet despite the remission of his vampirism the blood cravings still wracked him on occasion. With his human body incapable of processing blood he hoped the samples Dr. Owens was getting would stave off his crisis.  _Just a taste would suffice and hold off the pain._

Michael swore once in Greek and set about concocting a serum to counteract the chain reaction going on in the blood sample. He worked all night.

* * *

In the morning he called the front office for some black coffee and breakfast which they gathered in short order. Michael inhaled a cheese danish while still working on the serum.

His door creaked open and a young man with curly hair and a moustache peeked in. "Hello? Anyone in here?"

"Yes. Can I help you?"

"Ah, you are umm.. running some blood samples for me?"

"Is this your blood mister..?"

"Just call me Zap and no, it belongs to a friend."

Morbius cussed "Of course it does.. your friend is dying. You need to get them in to see me immediately."

"What?! Dying?! There's no way!"

"I do not joke about such things."

"Look I'll get her but... it has to be a secret."

Morbius raised his hand to his temple and rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "A secret?"

The man looked aghast. "Yes, a secret! Just.. trust me here."

"It's the She-hulk."

"I.. what!?"

"Gamma radiation in the blood for one, I've read Banner's papers just last night, plus female hormones in large doses. Also she's regularly sighted in the area, I'm not an idiot. Bring her in you fool! No time to waste!"

Zapper ran out the door with urgency. Michael watched him speed off and took the time to shout after him "And remind Owens that he owes me!"

* * *

The next day the She-hulk barely made it the lab and for that matter so did Morbius and Zapper after an angry protester attacked Morbius. Since they had transported the former vampire to UCLA the protesters gathered in droves and as his trial approached protests were turning ever more violent.

The two men ran back as fast as their legs could carry them to find her already passed out on the laboratory floor.

"Quickly, check her pulse! I'll get the serum ready." Of course the truth was it was already complete but it could hold the cure to his own blood cravings.. he was reluctant to use it for fear of being unable to replicate the formula. He stood holding the flask and pondering his options.

"Doctor hurry!"

Michael looked towards Zap in annoyance but he beheld the woman on the floor not as the She-hulk but as his own ex-fiance'. His thoughts screamed.  _Why does this keep happening to me? Is it the guilt? What can I do Martine? Just send me a sign!_

"There there Jen! Dr. Morbius has a cure, I promise you'll be okay." The She-hulk laid still without a word.

Michael cussed at his own thoughts and carried the flask to her, tilting her throat and pouring it into her mouth.  _If he was damned then so be it, but this woman had a chance at life._  "There, that should do it."

"She's still so weak doc!" Zap was hysteric.

"I was afraid of this." He crouched down to the She-hulk who now opened her eyes. "Jen? Your name is Jen yes? You have to transform. The serum won't work fully in this state."

"I can't.." She sputtered out the words weakly.

You have to! There is no other choice!" Michael shook her shoulders and she growled.

"Easy doc. She-hulk can be kind of violent."

"I know how that is better than anyone. Trust me." He looked into her eyes. "Try it."

She grunted with effort and for a few minutes Michael and Zapper thought it a failure but soon she shrank down to her normal human form. The woman who now sat in front of Michael was short with brown mid-length hair and brown eyes. Her clothes were in tatters. Morbius took off his lab coat and draped it around her.

"It worked! I'm Jennifer Walters again! I feel better!" She beamed and hugged Zap with abandon.

Morbius smiled and offered his hand. "Pleased to meet you Mrs. Walters. You won't have to worry about your duality from here on, you should now be stable and able to transform at will."

"You mean it?! No more unexpected transformations!? That is fantastic doctor Morbius! I cannot thank you enough! If there is anything I can ever do for you.." She interrupted her speech with a hug around Michael's midsection. Her clothes were still ripped and he could see down her dress. He blushed.

"Okay.. that's quite all right. Please enough hugs... and you can just call me Michael. If you'd like to of course."

Jen let go of the man reluctantly. "Of course Michael!"

He turned his face to avoid her noticing the flush of his cheeks. "Well... I'll be here if you should need me. I'd like to do a follow up blood check in a week if that is okay?"

"Of course! Umm... I guess we should be going. Thank you again for everything!"

They left happily singing songs together.

Michael sighed. Two more weeks to trial but at least he was helping someone, and a hero no less. Not a braggart like Spider-man.

The sudden loneliness was palpable in the lab and he sat down and poured himself a glass of ouzo taking the time to dump the contents of a blood vial into it. Just enough to relieve the cravings and pain.  _Fuck it, I've earned some time off today. Perhaps Jen will kindly visit me before the trial?_  He grinned at the idea but felt guilty when Martine stepped into his thoughts.  _Of course, I've already ruined one woman's life.. why try for another._

Little did he know that two days later he'd be facing down an angry Jennifer Walters who was every bit as formidable as her alter ego.

* * *

"You don't have to defend me! It's a suicide mission!" Michael yelled at Jennifer from the seat of his futon. They were inside his room at UCLA which she had invaded, successfully bluffing her way past security with her attorney registration ID.  _He previously had no idea she was even an attorney, of course._

"So what you're just going to defend yourself in court!?  _That's_  a suicide mission!" She paced back and forth in his small student housing carrying her briefcase. She was dressed in the normal lawyer attire, a slick business suit with skirt and grey high heels.

"It's my life to wager and you don't owe me anything!"

"So better to throw your own life away then?!"

He hissed at her with bared teeth and then froze realizing what he had done.

"You're still sick aren't you? The vampire is still in your head."

"Just a bit.." He leaned forward and took a sip of his drink.

"A bit Michael? You just hissed at me."

"I'm sorry.. you reminded me of someone I knew." He covered his head with his hands rubbing his own forehead for a moment.

"Your ex-fiance'?" Jen sat down next to him on the futon.

"That obvious huh? She is a strong woman."

She sighed "Look Michael, I'm your friend. Please let me defend you in court."

"I'm a dead man and you know it. It will ruin your career."

"You know that she'll be there right?"

Michael raised his head up to stare at her in alarm. "What?"

"Martine is going to be called to testify as a character witness. I'd almost guarantee it. The prosecution is going to try to provoke you in any way possible."

"Oh god.."

"Are you going to be able to cross examine her yourself?" Jen sat back and crossed her legs.

"I..." He rubbed his head. "I can't. I don't want you to think that you owe me for saving your life and keeping your identity a secret."

"I want to do it so you can save more lives."

He looked over at her with swollen eyes and sighed. He whispered an exasperated "Fine."

"I'm sorry, you were far too quiet. Speak up."

"Fine! You can represent me! Throw your career away for all I care!" He snarled out the last syllable and regretted it immediately.

Jen glared at him and crossed her arms.

"Sorry.. I know you just want to help me. This is all a bit much."

"Well then client. We have twelve days to prepare you and we have to do this well. One snap like that and the jury will lock you up and throw away the key."

"Or just electrocute me." Michael grinned.

"You have a dark sense of humor you know that?"

"I am aware.. counselor."

* * *

The courtroom was tightly packed with people for the eight in the morning trial. Jen made sure Michael had eaten and presented himself well. He had his hair pulled back neatly, his goatee trimmed and was wearing a nicely pressed grey suit. He looked like a standard college professor and his demeanor was pleasant and kind thanks to Jen's coaching. The first half of the day and the evidence had all gone by quite quickly.

"Now remember they're calling witnesses. Do not let them goad you. Stay calm, okay?" She poured him another glass of ice water while seated at the defendant's bench and Morbius looked at her skeptically while taking a sip.

"The prosecution calls the defendant's fiance' Martine Bancroft."

Michael held his breath as Martine walked in accompanied by a bailiff. She took her seat at the witness stand and swore on the bible before she finally looked up and their eyes met. He swallowed a gulp of air forcefully making his throat hurt.

"Ms. Bancroft you accompanied Michael Morbius and Emil Nikos on the yacht on the date of March Twelfth three years ago correct?"

"Yes I did."

"Please state for the court your relationship to the defendant."

"I am.. was his fiance'."

"Was, as in past tense?"

"Yes, I haven't been since his accident."

"Yet you were charged with aiding and abetting him as a fugitive. Is that right?"

Jen stood. "Objection your honor. All charges were dismissed."

The judge nodded. "Sustained."

The prosecuting attorney looked towards the defendant's bench and grinned. The look set Michael on edge so he leaned over to whisper in Jen's ear. "Why is he smiling, the objection was sustained?"

"that's Buck's tell. He's trying to pull something. Watch him." She leaned forward, on edge and focused.

"But you've seen Michael Morbius since the accident that made him a vampire?"

"Yes. Once in here in L.A."

"And you were bitten by him?"

"Yes I was."

"And your miscarriage you had this year was Michael's child?"

Michael's jaw hit the floor and Jen erupted "OBJECTION! Any medical records were obviously obtained illegally!"

The judge sustained but Buck had his desired effect as the courtroom broke out into raucous chatter and Morbius looked near death. Jen glanced over to check on him as he turned his head down towards the floor and whispered "I think I'm going to be sick.."

"Your honor I request a short recess, my client is feeling ill."

The judge sighed. He hated Buck's theatrics. "The court rests for a fifteen minute recess. We reconvene at two." He smacked his gavel hard on the podium.

"Michael, dear god are you okay?!"

"No. No I am not." He lifted his head to stare at Martine across the room as she was guided out by a bailiff. He mouthed the words "I'm sorry" and prayed she understood.

* * *

"Your honor we of the jury find the defendant guilty.. of involuntary manslaughter."

The court erupted with noise and screams as each charge repeated the same.

Jen smiled.  _Thank god, now Morbius will get a light sentence and he can keep working._  It was a miracle he was even able to pull himself together after Buck's stunts and the news about Martine. Poor guy, he still didn't look quite right.

Michael grinned up at her but behind the smile were some very sad eyes.

Jen hugged him around the neck while the guards tried to get the crowd under control. "Let's get you back to the lab okay?"

"I can go back to UCLA?"

"Yep, I got a stay for your sentencing until you're in better health so you have time to cure your addiction. They're letting you continue your work. I also have some correspondence here from one Reed Richards for you."

Morbius leaned over "From Reed? How did it arrive so quickly?"

"It's an email. I took the liberty of informing him of your situation after he contacted my cousin. I think he can pull some strings for you. He has a lot of sway with the government."

"Jen I.. I can't thank you enough for what you did but I need a favor."

"I already know. She's at the lab."

"She what?!"

"She has a press pass and I gave her clearance. I said she was helping with the defense." Jennifer smiled at him and he kissed her. Not a little peck on the lips, but a full on lips entwined kiss. When the two parted he apologized profusely.


	22. Catching Up

Michael and Jennifer rushed into the door to his UCLA room to find Martine sitting on the futon holding a cup of hot coffee. "Michael." She crossed her legs and looked sullen at his appearance.

"Jen would you please excuse us for a moment?"

Jennifer was wary of being in this situation anyways so she was happy to be excused. "Sure, I'm just going to go file some paperwork. I'll call you tonight."

"Thank you." Michael hugged her, much to the surprise of Martine who had barely seen him be affectionate with anyone. Jen made a slight wave of her hand and grinned as she left and closed the door behind her. He turned towards Martine expectantly.

"Come, sit." She patted the futon by her hand and he did as he was told, taking a seat next to her.

"Martine I'm sorry."

She glanced up at him quizzically. "It's alright. I should have told you earlier, then that asshole lawyer couldn't have used me like that.."

"It's my fault." He rested his hand on his chin and spoke without inflection.

"It's both of our faults really."

They sat in an awkward silence for a moment before she brought her left hand over to his right and clasped it in her fingers.

"Would you like a drink?" He looked up at her sullen and made his best effort to force a smirk.

"You know that wouldn't be a good idea, besides you only have ouzo while I prefer whiskey." She paused. "By the way I took the opportunity to flush your cigarettes while I was waiting."

"You... what?"

"You're human again so skip the cancer sticks okay?"

Morbius just stared in awe. "You've changed."

"Well, I've been through a lot. Are you the same person as when we met?"

He leaned back and put his hands on his knees. "No. I suppose I'm not."

She smiled and he grinned back at her before they both let go of a laugh together.

"You know you're going away for a bit still, though I have to admit Walters is a damn fine lawyer. You two close?"

"Friends, just friends. I'm quickly learning that there are more people out there with problems like mine than I ever could have guessed."

"Good. You need friends. Jack is doing good too. He sends his regards."

"Those his words exactly?"

"Nope. He said something like  _glad the idiot ain't dying!_ " Michael chuckled.

"Reed Richards has called me out for a project."

"That's great then. With luck you'll never have a night in jail again."

"I won't be able to see you.."

She looked at him and saw the expectation in his eyes. "Michael you were right before.. seeing me isn't a good idea."

Instead of facing her he chose to drop his head down to stare at the floorboards. "You're probably right."

"I have a new job."

He tried to keep the sadness from his voice. "Do you?"

"Yeah, magazine editor. I'm working at Entice."

"That's good."

There was another lapse in their conversation where neither knew what to say. After a few minutes Martine broke it. "I should be going."

Michael stood to protest but upon seeing the sadness in her eyes he offered his hand to help her up from her seat. She gladly took it and once standing surrendered to an unexpected hug.

"You take care of yourself." She smiled.

"I will Martine."

"I mean it."

He just smiled.

She broke from the hug and he walked her to the door, taking one last opportunity to touch her hand before she said goodbye and left.

* * *

Michael! What the hell man?! It's been forever!" Jack Russell sat on his couch clutching the phone firmly for fear of dropping it.

"Sorry Jack. I meant to call. It's been what one, maybe two years?"

"At least! What's going on? You surviving?"

"Yeah. I'm good."

"You know I stopped keeping tabs on Martine right? She moved."

That's fine Jack, she can definitely take care of herself. I was calling to see how you were doing."

"Me? Never better. You're the one in jail!"

Michael laughed. "No, I'm out. Reed brought me up to his place after the trial and I've been working off my sentence since. I have some pretty good contacts now, you know I even got to work with Doc Oc?"

"Isn't he a psycho?"

"No, not at all. It's just.. the power poisons your mind you know?"

"You should know."

"Yeah, I do."

"So you're out?"

"Completely now, working for a pharmaceutical company in L.A. But I'm taking a vacation."

"A vacation? The great Michael Morbius is taking a vacation! Are you for real?! Where you going?"

"I'm headed to New Orleans!"

"Hey, be careful down there."

"I will, by the way your old email still working?"

"Yeah, I never check the damn thing."

"Well check it goddamn it, I sent you a present."

"You sent me a present.. over email?"

"Yes."

"Okay man, whatever you say."

"Hey, I'll talk to you later okay? My flight is here. Remember you owe me a drink when I get back to New York."

"Yeah man, I've still got your stuff in my cabinet, I ain't touching it, tastes like paint thinner and licorice! Have fun."

I will!"

Jack clicked the phone and went over to Michael's old laptop. "Pfff, no charge." He pulled out the cord and crawled down on his knees to reach an outlet behind the couch plugging it in and returning to the sofa victorious. "Okay, startup... startup... Bing there we go!" Jack typed in his email and checked the messages.

_From : Secure network_

_Hey Jack, I transferred $3000 into your private bank account for "back rent" for the love of god buy some decent beer. You can't send it back, I had some help making it untraceable._

_Sincerely,_

_Michael Morbius Ph. D, MD_

Jack sat back and laughed. "Michael Morbius you son of a bitch.."

* * *

Michael sat back relaxedly listening to the smooth jazz being played live by four men in the corner of the bar on Bourbon Street. It was a lovely place by his standards, quiet aside from the music, dark, and with a well aged stash of liquor. And the food, oh the food! He ventured that he had probably already gained weight from this trip.

He pulled out another ten dollar bill and ordered yet another shot of whiskey on the rocks. The bartender obliged but shot him a look alerting him to the fact that he was pushing it as far the amount he should drink. Probably time to head back to the hotel.. or not yet. A sultry looking black woman shot him a look of pure promise from down the bar. He gulped and tried to summon the courage to talk to her to no avail. Luckily she took the hint and got up from her seat to saunter over to him.

"is this seat taken? That is, if you don't mind the company." She had a sweet melodic voice that hung in the air like smoke.

"Not at all, company would be delightful."

"My name is Marie." She smiled in a friendly gesture that seemed to hide malice below the surface, or so he thought. He dismissed his thoughts as crazy and proceeded to buy the woman a drink while she took the vacant barstool next to his. She was young and confident, the kind of woman who rarely acknowledged him. He praised his luck.

"My name is Michael.." He paused and decided it best to withhold his last name. The media had stopped running it through the mud after his trial but it was still in the public consciousness and too heavy with tragedy.

"Well Michael, you aren't from around here are you?" She leaned over the bar enhancing her cleavage. He tried not to stare.

"A most astute observation. No I am not." He smiled and took another sip of the whiskey, it cooled his throat and eased his nervousness.

"Where are you from?"

"Greece originally." He sat down his glass of the polished wood bar making the ice jingle. "But also New York."

"I can tell, you have an accent."

"Strange that it's still noticeable. I haven't lived there in so long." He downed the last gulp of alcohol.

"Perhaps you would like to come back to my apartment with me and tell me of Greece?" She leaned towards him and flashed him a look that Michael remembered well from his days with Martine.

"Of course." He left a tip for the bartender and followed her out into the French quarter.


	23. Strange Men

"JACK! Please be home Jack!" Michael pounded on the seventeenth floor window in the freezing rain, already soaked to the bone.

The windows illuminated with a sudden yellow glow. Jack Russell in his half-man half-wolf form lumbered into view of the window wearing nothing but a lot of fur and a small cotton pair of boxer shorts. He yawned in a fugue so Michael pounded once more on the glass with his closed fist causing an unintentional crack. Jack's ears perked at the noise and he sprinted on wolf legs to the window, forcing it open with his claws.

"Mike! Mike are you okay! Hey talk to me!"

Morbius half crawled half squirmed inside the window and collapsed to his knees on the floor spreading a seeping pile of water beneath him. He gulped air like a man drowning then snarled showcasing his fangs.

"Shit Mike.. you aren't okay."

"NO I'm not okay. I'LL NEVER BE OKAY AGAIN!" He grasped his head in both hands screaming towards the floor.

"Mike, Jesus man! Here, I'll get you a towel." Jack was nervous, he'd never seen Michael this bad off before.

Michael just curled into a ball on the floor taking position on his side with his arms wrapped around his legs. When Jack rushed in with a heaping armload of towels he stayed still not even visibly breathing.

"Dammit." Jack wrapped the first oversized bath towel around Michael's shoulders and tried to tuck it under him to no avail. He just sagged there like a dead fish.

"She turned me back.." It was barely more than a whisper.

"Who did?! What happened?!"

"Marie Laveau."

"Oh shit. We need to call someone.. where's Martine living?"

"NO! No Jack! I was human again when she last saw me. Please let her keep thinking of me that way." Finally he rose to sit cross-legged with the soaked towel flopped over his shoulders. Water dripped from his goatee and his red eyes glowed dimly.

"Look, you gotta tell me what happened! I mean shit you just called me four days ago!"

"Give me a moment." He took another towel out of Jack's arms and dabbed at his hair.

"Hold on, I'll get you some of your old clothes. I still got a box of em' that I never dropped off to Goodwill." He left Michael alone who stayed cross-legged on the floor like a petulant child caught in the middle of a tantrum. Jack strolled back in with some slacks, boxers, and an old satin button down shirt. Michael talked and stripped his costume off at the same time while Jack wandered away to give him some privacy and put a pot of coffee on the burner in the kitchen.

"I met her at a bar and she enraptured me into following her back to her apartment."

"That ain't hard to do, you're an idiot for women."

"Point taken, I'll save the debate for later." He coughed and finally stepped free of the soaked costume, kicking it free of his foot. "When I got to her place she chats me up a bit, slips into something more comfortable, and get's my life story from me..."

"Oh god Mike you didn't.."

"I might have.. and then of course she admits she knows of me, had been expecting me in fact. She tells me her last name and the drugs in my drink kick in."

"So at this point you know you're fucked."

"Yes, I remember mention of her from various sources. When I wake up she tell me that she stays alive and young by drinking vampire blood and that there are no more vampires. So she's going to try ME."

"Yeah a buddy of mine pulled that off. All the vampires are dead, cept you. You know, cause you ain't a real vampire."

Michael pulled up the slacks and yelled towards the kitchen counter where Jack was done fiddling with the coffee pot. "You know this Strange person of which she spoke?!"

"Yeah, we go back a ways."

"Where can I find him?! I need to find him! There is one more vampire and she's after him!" He finished dressing, finally buttoning the V-necked shirt on his chest.  _God help me trying to stay inconspicuous in this outfit_. The slacks were bootcut and flared, the satin shirt a yellow paisley. He looked like he was going to a disco.

"Look I can give you his address, but you need to rest. You look half fucking dead."

"There isn't any time Jack! She resurrected a vampire.  _A REAL vampire!_  Your friend's spell was in vain."

"Strange can handle it tomorrow. It's almost dawn and I can see you struggle to move normally, don't think I can't tell!" The coffee pot dinged an alert of it's full contents and Jack poured himself a mug.

"I've just been through a lot these past days.."

"Bullshit. Look, you know the drill. You're my bud and you ain't rushing out into the damn night half-dead to get killed. You sleep on the couch, maybe have a warm shower and I'll get you that address. And for the love of God hang up that damn costume! It's dripping all over my floor!" He sipped the mug's contents, bland and cheap.

Michael lost the will to debate as his body was giving out on him. The trip from New Orleans to New York had been rough and he was running low on blood. He walked over to the sofa and sat grudgingly on one of the cushions.

"So you agree then?" Jack chugged down the last of the mug while holding his breath and strolled to stand in front of Morbius on the couch.

"It would appear that I have little choice."

Jack slapped him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. Good night leech."

"Please don't call me that.  _I really hate it._ "

"Yeah well, deal. I'll see you when you wake up." He walked to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and doubled back to carry a blanket from the closet over to Morbius who was already asleep and drape it over him. He chuckled and muttered  _"Dumbest smart guy I know."_

* * *

"You! Victor! Stop!" Morbius tracked Victor Strange to this dark alley. It is he that is the last true vampire and Dr. Strange's long lost brother, but more than that Victor was a plague waiting to bust loose and spread. Vampires can multiply exponentially, and Victor was young and had no idea what he was doing.  _The best thing to do would be to take him down while he's outside of Marie Laveau's reach._

Victor lashed out at Michael with claws but Morbius dodged the blows instead keeping a range and lifting up a garbage can to be used as a makeshift weapon. "Okay, we'll do this the hard way then." Michael hurled the can at his head and the blow knocked Victor out cold. Michael felt the bloodlust try to creep over his mind and fought it back. The effort distracted him a bit too much.

"Victor! What have you done to him?!"

Michael looked up to see the outline of a man in a gold embroidered red cape. He was exactly as Jack had described

"Doctor Strange!"

"So you know who I am but who are you?!" Strange floated down to stand between Michael and Victor.

"I am Morbius and that man behind you is.."

"Is no one you will get to kill today! By the great power of Satannish the supreme.."

 _Shit!_  "NO! No spells!" Michael reached forward and grabbed Strange's throat in his claws, squeezing and strangling of the man's words. Strange gripped at his fingers trying to pry them off but Michael had fed this evening and his grip was strong. Strange changed tactics by punching the vampire square in the jaw causing Michael's lip to split. In the heat of the moment Morbius picked Strange up around the chest and slammed him into the nearby brick. With his enhanced senses Michael smelled blood leaking from cuts and his mind blanked, the vampire taking control. He snarled and rushed Strange but he dodged and tripped him by the leg, bashing Michael's head into the cement. Stephen Strange then clocked Michael once straight on. It hurt his fist and Michael's head in equal measure.

"Stop... stop.. I'm all right now. The bloodlust came over me, I apologize. It's hard to control.."

"You tried to kill Victor!"

"No, it's not what it seems. Look at him!"

Strange backed away slowly towards Victor lying prone to examine him.  _There, his teeth are those fangs?!_  "He's.. he's a vampire! but they're all dead! And you're not?"

"No, I most certainly am not." Michael stood dusting off the dirt and debris from his costume.

"Can you explain this?" Strange approached Michael cautiously. He certainly looks like a vampire, but some things are far more than they appear.

"I can but it will be dawn soon.. I don't suppose I might be able to come inside?"

"Inside... you know that I live nearby?!"

"I must admit I got your address from Jack Russell. I was on my way to alert you to the situation when I saw Victor skulking outside your house. I decided to try to capture him."

"Well, this all makes sense now. You said your name was..?" Strange held out his hand to the vampire who took it in his own for a firm handshake.

"Doctor Michael Morbius. Or just Michael if you'd prefer."

"I'm Stephen Strange, Please Michael, do come inside."

* * *

"So Marie drugged you and when you woke?" Strange sat sipping coffee while his other houseguests hovered around listening to Michael recount the tale. It was certainly an odd group, a minotaur, two human women, and an Asian man. All experts in some manner or another.

"Yes, and when I awoke she.. shocked me to revert me into my previous condition, as you see me now."

Sara, the woman with long black hair and eyes that hinted at deep insight spoke up. "Your condition was originally caused by an experimental serum and electro-shock right doctor?"

Michael was surprised. "Yes.. how do you know?"

"I recognized your name. I've read all about your condition." Sara seemed frightened but interested. Morgana, the other woman rolled her eyes.

Stephen sat down his mug. "Sara is a bit faster on the uptake than I am, I admit that your name was familiar but I was having trouble connecting the dots. so you're not a true vampire in any sense."

"No, even garlic and crosses have no effect. I don't know if a stake would stop me, I know bullets don't." His eyes darted showing his discomfort at the topic at hand.

"I'm so sorry, please continue."

"Well Marie sampled my blood and found it lacking. She then vowed to either make me usable to her or destroy me. I prayed for the latter. Yet she cast one more spell, a spell that told her there was one true vampire left. Your brother."

"But that doesn't make sense, my brother died ten years ago. Before I even took up the title of sorcerer supreme!"

Michael sat back knowing that he could get hostile at this next fact. "And before you were a competent sorcerer you tried to resurrect him yes? Think Stephen those verses you said.."

Wong, the Asian man got angry at this. "Watch your tone! Dr. Strange would never..!"

"No Wong, Michael is right. I had little knowledge of magic at the time."

"They were vampiric verse Stephen."

"Are you sure?!"

"That's what Marie said. Then she called Vic using an attraction spell, he came and there was an altercation resulting in the apartment being set on fire. Victor fled, and Marie probably thinks I perished in the flames."

"And you tracked Victor here?"

"Yes, he was drawn to your residence I think. What have you done with him?"

"I have him in a stasis spell. It should keep him out of trouble for now but Marie must be dealt with."

"Indeed. She will come after your brother, she needs his blood."

A high pitched women's scream shot out from outside. Morbius stood as everyone rushed to the source of the sudden noise  _"Goddamn, I hate being right all the time."_

Victor was gone.


	24. Temporary Home

"Okay, so we need a way in there?" Morbius stood on the darkened lawn outside the plantation where Marie was making her last stand. It had been a hard road to this point but staying with Strange and his fellows had its benefits. Morbius was well-fed albeit from stored cold blood.

Brother Voodoo stood to the side, arms crossed impatiently. "She's surrounded the place with a force field. We aren't getting in anytime soon."

"So what? We need to take her out." Michael's fangs glowed in the reflected moonlight as he talked giving him an eerie appearance. He appreciated the help since Brother Voodoo had assisted them in Haiti but the man had been grating on Michael's nerves since he had joined the makeshift team.

"Well we can't just break through! We've tried it! We're out of spells!" Voodoo crossed his arms.

"You and your spells! The both of you see what good those have done us!" Morbius showed his teeth involuntarily and voodoo took a step back. Everyone was wary of Morbius, it wasn't hard to detect.

Stephen walked past the two arguing men. "Better give her what she wants then. Marie! I have your spell page! Let me enter and I can trade it for my brother!"

Michael turned to grab his left arm. "Are you mad man?! You can't give her the vampiric verse! You'll undo everything you did to rid the world of those monsters!"

Brother voodoo grabbed Stephen's other arm. "Morbius is right Doctor. Stand down. You cannot hand that over!"

Strange turned and faced them, for a moment he seemed remorseful. In the next moment he called of the powers of Satannish and blasted them both back fifteen feet in a burst of light and fire. When Michael was able to get up from the damp earth he was gone.

Morbius checked himself over for wounds, " _Goddamn it! The imbecile will get us all killed!_  Brother Voodoo are you okay?" At the lack of a response Michael walked over to him and rolled him over. "Fuck, wake up! Stephen went into the house!"

Brother Voodoo opened his eyes and moaned. "That was a powerful spell.."

"Are you alright?" Michael held out his arm for him and helped him to his feet.

"Yes, he wasn't intending to hurt us, just delay us."

"I'm going after him." Michael turned and darted towards the house.

"Morbius, wait!" but it was too late, the barrier was down and Morbius was gone.

Michael crashed through a second story window and scowled, the place was a mess and it all reeked of the supernatural to his heightened senses. There was a lot of shrieking and sound from downstairs so that's where he headed merely jumping the landing rather than actually running down each step, he landed on his feet at the bottom. The scene before him looked grim. Marie was gone and bodies scattered the room. In the center a seal had been drawn on the wood in chalk and salt and in the seal's center the most horrible man-bat creature Michael had ever seen standing at least nine feet tall. Stephen stood casting an incantation against the beast. Michael did the only thing he could think of, he stood between the creature and Morgana and Victor prepared to defend them.

"By all that is holy! You will not spread your plague here Varnae! I have destroyed the vampire verse and I will destroy you as well!" Stephen clutched the Darkhold book of spells close to his chest and stood poised.

Varnae morphed into a giant wolf and turned on him thrashing and clawing but Strange managed to hold him off all while chanting.

"Varnae you should not have given me time to open a gate to oblivion! Better to banish you back from whence you came than have you crawl the earth!" Sure enough behind the wolf a swirling vortex opened in midair.

The wolf lunged off of Stephen and changed shape once more in midair to a small squeaking bat avoiding the pull of the vortex, it fled through the broken window.

"After it!" Morgana pleaded but Stephen just sagged against the wall.

"It's no use. He's faster than we are. We'll have to track him down." The vortex dilated into a flash of light and was gone.

Michael interjected, "And Marie? Where did she flee to?!"

"Here, I have her. She tried to run." Baron Voodoo stood triumphant by the front door clasping Marie Laveau by the shoulder. Her arms were tied with what looked to be vines.

Morbius glared at her and bared his fangs She froze in fright unable to defend herself but Stephen walked over to him. "No Morbius, we have her now. I know what she's done but revenge is not justice, it will not bring back your humanity."

It took all the effort Michael had to force himself to back down but he did it and looked after the wounded.

"Also I'm very sorry about blasting you two earlier. I came to my senses and destroyed the verses. I was just very concerned for Victor."

Baron Voodoo just smiled but Michael laughed. "Had it been someone I loved I would have done the same. You are only human after all."

"Which is more than I can say about you." Stephen chuckled. "I don't suppose you'd like to stay with us for a while? Perhaps I can find something to cure you."

"I would appreciate any help you can offer... I don't really have a home so a warm bed is very welcome."

"It's settled then!"

* * *

"So you cured her?!"

"Not cured perse but she now has control of her transformations. She can become the She-hulk whenever she wills it." Michael sat back on the leather sofa and took another sip of his drink. Having another person to talk to was a welcome change and he found the company particularly pleasant as they could both chat about everything from recent medical breakthroughs to superhero goings on. "I cannot tell you her identity though." He smirked.

"Of course, of course. I would never ask." Stephen chuckled.

"What was this drink again?" He tapped the glass with his index finger to indicate the light-green liquor inside.

"That's absinthe, quite a vintage bottle in fact. I'm surprised you like it, most people find the taste a bit strong."

"It reminds me of ouzo a bit. Quite pleasant really."

"You can consume alcohol, have you tried food since you changed?"

"I must admit that Morgana made a potato salad the other day and I took a spoonful in the kitchen."

Stephen laughed and sat his drink down on the table. "And how was it?"

"Oh it was wonderful going down... Not so much on the reverse." Michael laughed but there was hurt in his eyes. "I fear I can only process liquor because of its absorption into the bloodstream, and even then I don't partake of much." He paused. "Stephen.. This time with you and your friends has been wonderful but I must find a way to cure myself."

"I've been searching through the Darkhold for an answer but I admit my findings are lacking. Your condition is too scientific, magic may not hold the answer."

Michael took another sip. "As I feared."

"I could set you up with a lab here. Sara has grown quite fond of having you around."

"You're a lousy liar. I know she's afraid of me, they all are." Stephen looked up at him hurt but not denying it. "They have good reason to be.. No, I need to go."

"Where will you go?"

"I'm not sure, perhaps back to LA to retrieve my possessions. Maybe I'll contact Reed Richards again. I just don't want to be a hindrance anymore."

"Michael I assure you you're not a hindrance. You've even helped council my brother!"

"He's still suicidal, you need to watch him. Don't let him feed off of any humans as well." Michael downed the last of his drink and slid the tumbler back onto the coffee table in front of him. "But I'm sure you can handle him."

"Well if I can't talk you out of it, do you have blood for the journey?" Morbius nodded so stephen stood and held out his hand. Michael took it in his and stood in turn. "Take care of yourself Michael."

"And you as well, Stephen." Michael smiled and walked to the second story window giving one moment to look back before he leapt out and was gone.

Stephen sighed.  _"What is it with that man and dramatic exits?"_


	25. The Addict

The bus station was dark, the lights dimmed purposefully for those trying to catch a two AM nap between transfers. Morbius appreciated the dark but wasn't sure where anyone could rest in here, the stop was cold, full of steel-ribbed benches and hard cement floors. A few college students huddled in the back camped around their backpacks on the floor sharing snacks from the vending machine with each other and chatting excitedly. There were a few sparse other people here, a man reading the paper, a homeless youth tired from bumming dollars, but no one that took any real note of him. Good, better to avoid notice. Michael yawned and leaned back on the bench, the four hour run from Holbrook Arizona to Santa Fe New Mexico had yet to arrive and he'd really prefer upon his pending arrival to have time to find somewhere to sleep in Santa Fe.

"Hi. Mind if I sit here?"

She was in her early twenties, short and perky with short brown hair spiked up with gel. Her low cut tank top exposed the top of her cleavage and the outside edges of some tattoos. Morbius blushed. "No, not at all."

She smirked and stretched out her arms falling into the seat on the bench. "Hi, I'm Amber. Where are you headed?"

"East." He tried hard to calm his heart, it had been days since he'd fed. Nearly a week.  _Where did she even come from? He hadn't seen her a minute ago!_

"That's descriptive. Nowhere in particular?"

"New York."  _Goddamn it. The station was full of empty seats. Why him, why now?!_  She obviously wasn't taking the hint. Michael hunched over in his trench coat and pulled the brim of his hat down to hide his eyes.

"Oooooh. New York is a really interesting place! You seeing the sights?"

"No. It's my home."

"And you never gave me your name." She leaned over towards his shoulder and gave him a mischievous smile. He leaned away in response making her frown.

"Michael."

"Ah, like the archangel right? Well angel, you lonely?"

"Pardon?!" He gulped.

She spoke slower and at a near whisper to avoid being heard by anyone else in the station. "Are you lonely? You know, do you need company?"

"I prefer to travel alone."  _Fuck! What is her game!? It's been too long... can't deal with this right now.._

"I didn't mean.. um, look. Do you need some T L C? You know, cause' it gets lonely on the road."

"I prefer women for that, not girls." He growled out the response trying to hide the glow creeping over his eyes. The room was growing brighter in his view. More red.

A look of rage overtook her once kind eyes and she stood in front of him.

"Please miss, don't."  _The red, so much red._

"You asshole! Fuck you you fucking creepy son of a bitch!" As she started to berate him, the other early morning inhabitants of the bus station turned towards the sudden outburst.

She stopped for a second to catch her breath, Morbius stood from his seat imposing himself in front of her.

"Oh what, you gonna hit me?! Big man hitting a little girl?!"

He leaned over towards her and put a hand on each of her shoulders. She gazed up in confusion thinking that this weird older man was going in for a hug.

He wasn't.

Claws sunk into the flesh of her bare shoulders as she screamed. He pulled her forward and opened his mouth letting his teeth scrape over the skin of her shoulder before he sunk them in to drink with a snarl. Two people ran as fast as they could out the front door in a rush to get away leaving even their baggage behind. One of the college students, a large blonde boy ran towards Michael trying to jerk him away from the girl but he felt as solid as stone. "Hey! Let her go!"

Amber continued shrieking as she felt the room growing darker. The pain he was causing intensified and spread from the bite, it felt like red hot coals. Blood started to rush down her back and pool beneath her feet as he lifted her up.

The college student slammed against his arm so Morbius threw the boy backwards losing his hat in the process, his limp body flew over towards his friends who were frozen in fear landing on the floor with a thump on the cement. Michael's eyes glowed a fierce red in the darkness and his face was monstrous.

Slowly his consciousness broke through.

_NO NO NONONONONO! STOP PLEASE! STOP DEAR GOD STOP LET HER GO DON'T KILL HER! NO DON'T!_

It was no use. she was already as flaccid as a rag doll hanging in his arms. She was past the point of saving and he knew it. Too much blood lost. He gripped her tighter snaking one arm around her ribs and growled sucking everything he could from her. Her heart stopped, he felt it and discarded the body to the floor like garbage.

Slowly the red receded, the glow faded, and his wits returned.

 _Oh god... what have I done?!_  He looked around pausing only to lock gazes with the kids huddled against the wall, grabbed his briefcase, and fled.

* * *

"We found one!" Officer Brady walked over and bent over to slide underneath the crime scene tape.

"Just one? The kids said there were two other people."

"Yeah and we got two sets of luggage but I don't think we're finding that last guy today.  _That fucker ran,_  could be halfway to Cleveland by now."

Pete sighed, it was too goddamn early for this kind of weird shit by his measure. He hadn't even been in the force a week. "Fine, what's the count?"

Brady flipped through his clipboard. "One April Brown and Mick Thompson were over there against the wall with our injured vic talking. Darius Montevado was over here on this bench reading the paper." He strolled through the room as he talked, pointing places out and checking his notes. "Here's our other mystery individual's seat. And here is the bench our perp sat at beside the vic." While walking to that particular spot he did his best to avoid the officer from forensics snapping photos of the blood splatter. Thank god the body had already been moved, this whole thing creeped Brady right the fuck out.

"And the girl came from where?"

"Front door or bathroom most likely, we're pulling prints. Station owner saw the camera pics and said she's a regular, Sarah Foresh, busted on three counts of prostitution so far this year. Likes to go by aliases, usually works bus stations and airport terminals. Bad drug addiction."

"We got the cam footage back?! Jesus, why didn't you tell me?"

"Cause you ain't gonna like it."

Pete eyed him skeptically until Brady just let out a "Fine, I'll get it!" and went to retrieve his laptop from the forensics team. He walked back triumphant with laptop in hand. "Okay, you ready for this?"

"Just show me the damn footage without the color commentary."

"Alright fine. Sit down for this one."

The older gentleman did as the young officer commanded taking a seat far away from the splatter.

"Okay, right here is where our perp enters looking like Humphrey fucking Bogart." The shadow of a man wearing a full trench coat and wide-brimmed hat stepped through the lobby on the screen taking a seat on the bench. The time tag said it was a quarter past one. "Here at two O' eight the girl enters."

"It doesn't show where she came from?"

"Nah man, camera's just for the lobby. No cams around the building at all." The girl on the screen rose from her seat to face the perp. "See they talk for about a minute before she get's pissed and stands. Now watch this." The man on the tape stood and clasped her shoulders. "Annnnnnnd slow-mo!" The footage slowed to a crawl as the man lurched forward over her in a blur burrowed his mouth to her neck.

"What the fuck.." Pete stared intently as the bite became ragged and the girl screamed silently on screen. When the boy rushed him and got knocked back the hat fell out of frame and Pete stood. "I know that guy!"

Every officer there turned to him.

Brady freaked out. "What like seriously? You know a goddamn vampire?!"

"Not like personally you idiot! I know him through the news, I swear to god! I am not even kidding.. he's got an "M" name, something foreign sounding... MORBIUS! That's it! Dude's name is Morbius! Saw a story that he'd been cured... apparently not"

The lead examiner in forensics stood and put down his camera and flipped out his phone. "Get me everything you have on this guy NOW!"

* * *

 _What have I done?! Three months of staying off the radar BLOWN because of a stupid girl!_  He stopped to chide himself, _no, it's not her fault. My fault. Always my fault, I have to get away and it's close to sunrise._

Sure enough the sky was lightening to a deep blue, the sun would peek over the horizon soon and while it didn't burn him he'd rather not be weakened with the possibility of police coming after him. He stopped to pull a tattered map out of his pocket and glance over it. A railyard five blocks from here looked promising. As long as I can keep heading due east I'll get there eventually.

He picked up his briefcase and started to walk.


	26. Of Sound Mind

"So three more this week?" Peter Parker stood in Jay Jonah Jameson's cramped fourth floor office in the daily Bugle reading through the possible story layouts.

"Yes three more! I want pictures for this Peter, big pictures! This is our headliner for tomorrow. Unless you can find me a political affair or some major cover up."

"I don't get it though, there's been some thirteen homeless gone missing before this. Why are we just now reporting on it?"

"Because the other news outlets are, that's why! The damn Globe is running a full page spread! Just get me something I can use by nine tonight! Nine sharp, understand?" The grizzled older man slammed his hand on the desk for emphasis or threat, probably both.

"Yeah, I got it J.J. I'll find something." He rushed out of the office to avoid annoying Jameson any more than he had already.  _That man is scary when he's angry._

_So, let's see a ton of homeless people have gone missing over the span of three months, all downtown residents. All at night probably, but maybe I could catch something today if I'm lucky. Gotta stop off at home for my costume and a meal. I hope MJ is cooking!_

Much to his dismay though back at his apartment MJ had little interest in cooking.

"Peter, you were supposed to take me out tonight!" She folded her arms in front of her. Her long red hair tossed back behind her shoulders in aggravation. He knew the pose well.

"Errrr... I was?"

MJ threw her hands up over her head and groaned. "Unbelievable! You're going off chasing some bad guy aren't you?!"

"I have to MJ, I'll make it up to you later?" The last word squeaked out from between his lips cautiously.

She picked up a book from his end table and hurled it at him.  _Thank goodness for light paperbacks._  "Oh no you won't! Not this time! I'm going out with the girls then! I'll catch you whenever you're done playing hero." She grabbed her cardigan sweater from the sofa and stormed out.

"I guess lunch will be to go then.."

* * *

"What a fine day this has turned into!" Peter in costume flew through the air towards fifth street slinging from one web to the next. To his side he clutched a bag from his favorite deli, a last second decision for food but nonetheless one that cheered him up a little.  _That deli makes the best chocolate chunk cookies!_  He found a nice vantage point near a hotel's roof and stopped to eat, pulling up his mask and forcing the sandwich into his mouth a bite at a time beneath the fabric.  _Oh, if only the villains of this city could see me now. Bored and stuffing my face._

It was about a half-hour after he finished his meal that a homeless man ran panicked past him on the ground below.  _Oh there we go! A clue Scooby!_ He swung down to interrupt the man's path.

"Hiya. Nice day for a jog right?"

"Spider-man! You have to help me! They're after me!" the man flailed and choked on his own words.

"Whoah there, slow down now who's after you?"

"They are! The sewer people! There was one in that alley, he came up through the manhole and tried to get me! Said he was gonna take me to his leader! I am way to old for this shit!"

Peter glanced back in the alleyway. "That way?"

"Yes! Now if you don't mind I'm getting far away from here!" He kept right on running at quite an impressive pace for a guy well into his sixties.

"Well, look's like it's sewer time for me, take in the sights, maybe see some mutant ninja turtles. Glad I already ate today..."

The alley was clear of everything but clutter, and the manhole sat askew. Peter peered down into it and heard rustling. "Oh this is just not my day.." He jumped in.

Everything was black, not even enough light to see your hand in front of your face. He searched his waist for his small clip light and clicked it on. A thin cone of red light came into view illuminating nothing but tunnel ahead. Peter walked on taking a deep gulp of air and trying to breath through his nose as little as possible.  _It could certainly use a Glade plug-in or two down here.._

Up ahead a shadow loomed. then several others scrambled to the same spot.

"This isn't going to be good.."

A spastic voice came from the shadows. "It's a bad one.. grab it! Take it to the leader." the shadows moved forward towards Spider-man.

"Awwww hell no." Peter flipped himself onto the roof of the pipe and skittered past the mob above their heads coming to a large open cave area. He shot a web to the ceiling and pulled himself up. The people swarmed around the ground below him.

"Get the bad one!"

"He's too high.."

"Can't reach.."

"Leader gonna be mad."

Peter raised an eyebrow. These guys were not dealing from a full deck, maybe not even a half deck. "Where's your leader? Tell me where he is?"

"Uh oh."

Prolly shouldn't."

"He'll get mad"

 _Okay, I've had about all I can take from these goons._  Spidey raised his wrists and shot webbing around the group cocooning them together in a tight ball. "Now then." He flipped down to the ground to stare at the wiggling mass of people. Most of them looked malformed in some way, an ear too big, eyes sunken back, jawlines that didn't quite match up with their face. "Urrrgh.. umm nevermind. Geeze. I was gonna make a joke but just... geeze!" Spider-man took a moment to rub his forehead. "Look, where is your leader as you call him?"

"Promised not to tell.."

"Can't say.."

"Just go straight."

"Whoops."

Peter laughed under his breath and took the path straight from where he came in, sure enough there was another tunnel that led out into another cavern. He felt a huge rush of wind overhead as though something flew about the room. "Uh oh."

"Who dares to come here?!"

Peter froze.  _Oh god that sounds like.._  "Morbius?"

A shape dropped down in front of him and landed on the cold wet ground with a reverberating noise. It towered over him. It is  _Morbius! Oh god and he's bigger than he was before. This is gonna be really really bad._

"You know my name?! Who are you?!" The vampire leaned forward in the dark studying him at the edge of Peter's light with his head cocked to the side in concentration.

Peter stepped back and motioned to the spider logo on his costume. "Just your friendly neighborhood Spider-man."

"YOU!" Morbius hissed and bared his teeth.

"Oh boy.. here comes the dance." Peter dodged the first swoop and the claw slash that came after it. "What happened to you?! I heard you were at Dr. Strange's place working on a cure which I'm assuming failed and now you're kidnapping homeless people?!"

"I've kidnapped no one! I need the blood or else I'll die! My friends bring me blood! Now though you made the choice easy I'll just take YOURS!" he paused with both of his arms at his sides, claws spread in anticipation.

"You don't sound like yourself. How about we both just stop this fight and we'll find you some help okay?" Peter ducked another claw swipe aimed squarely at his head. "Okay... I'm running out of patience here." He pulled back his arm to give Morbius a punch which landed on his jaw. It was decently effective making the vampire fall back a bit, but it hurt Peter's fist. FUCK! _It's like punching bricks!_  Morbius was always a dangerous opponent to try and fight at close range.

Morbius growled. "There is no help for me! That's why I'm not with Strange or Richards or anyone! They can't help me!"

"Well you can't go kidnapping people and drinking their blood! You're being a monster. That what you've turned into Morbius? A monster? You know we aren't so different you and I but I don't go around kidnapping..!"

At that Michael's pupils contracted in rage. "We aren't so different?! WE AREN'T SO DIFFERENT?! Tell me because I can't see your face, do you appear human?! When you walk down the street do people run from you?!"

"Uuuummm..."

"And when you go home you can hold the ones you love without fear of hurting them?! Can you lay with a woman without endangering her!?"

"Whoah.. personal! Too personal!"

"Does the very sun sap your strength, and do you need to hold someone down kicking and screaming to take what you need to survive?! And sometimes, SOMETIMES do you keep holding them down draining them because you're starving and you've lost control and their heart gives that final contraction, that final second of life that you feel slip away!? Well do you you arrogant, self-centered, IMBECILE!?"

"I uhhh..."

Morbius stepped forward into the light with deadly intent and much to his surprise Peter was incapable of movement and stood frozen in fear. He was caught completely off guard by the vampire's rant.

"Enough." A hooded figure stepped from the shadows leaning on a cane. "He's partially mad you know. The vampirism may be affecting his mind."

Peter turned to Morbius being able to see the glassiness of his eyes in the glow.  _Definitely not normal._  Though at least this was distracting Michael enough for the moment. "And who are you?"

"I was the leader of these people. They're not bad, just simple, we've been down here for generations. If they have done any evil it was only due to Morbius' influence."

Michael panicked. He wasn't crazy! At least he didn't feel any different _. I feel the same as ever.. same as ever right? Of course. Crazy bah! Perfectly sane. "_ My friends only borrowed those they deemed bad from above to feed me. They'd never harm an innocent."

Peter groaned. "Oh please do you think I'd be down here in the oh so scenic sewers if only rapists and murderers disappeared?!"

"They told me! They promised!" He yelled the words but the questions were overtaking his mind. No easy answers were found.

The cloaked figure clicked his cane twice about the cement. "They don't understand. Here, ask them."

Shadows slowly shifted in from the edges of the room. They stood and watched the three men now standing in the center.

Michael glanced nervously about the room. "Keever are you here?"

"Yes I is here."

"Keever the people you brought me.. you said they were bad. what made you say this?"

"Cause they is bad."

"No no, what makes them bad."

"They live above."

"Is that all?"

"They wear bad clothes."

"Okay what about robbers and thieves?"

"They bad."

"And policemen?"

"They bad."

"And old ladies and puppies?"

"Them too."

The cloaked figure spoke up again. "They don't understand you. When you first came here you healed them and brought down food for them. They'd do anything to please you. When they learned that you needed blood.. well. They wanted to help. You've changed since then though, your mind is being affected and your influence is tainting these good people.."

"Oh god..." Morbius fell to his knees. "I'm not well am I? I.. need help."

Peter inched forward. "It's okay, we'll call someone. Just come with me for right now and..."

Michael's eye widened "NO NOT YOU! They trusted me.. I was trying to help. STAY BACK!" He seemed highly unstable, even the denizens hiding in the dark shrunk back in fear.

Peter put his hands in the air in front of him and stood still but Morbius rose to his feet with his fists clenched at his sides looking ready to murder if need be.

Peter whispered "You used to be a doctor... You healed the sick."

Morbius lost what little sanity he had punching the concrete ground with a loud growl. It shattered around his fist spraying small pebbles and bits up into the air to clatter as they fell. Peter found himself cursing his naivete at even coming down here alone but when Michael stood and next looked at him there was a newly found hint of compassion and recognition. He whispered into the darkness "What have I become?" and flew off into the shadows down the tunnel with a rush of wind.

"Dammit Morbius wait!" It was too late, he could never catch him down here. Morbius knew the tunnels and could see in the dark, he'd travel fast. Peter rubbed the back of his neck through his costume.

"Perhaps you should go. I can handle my people, they're confused but will be better with time."

Peter nodded and took his way back through the tunnel entrance. Once outside he took a moment to curse and punch the air in frustration. Inside his pocket he found his cell phone and dialed MJ.

"Peter, what do you want?"

"Hey MJ, I'm sorry about today. I just want to make some time for us okay? No hero stuff, no Daily Bugle, just you and me and that little Italian place you like tomorrow night?"

"You mean it Tiger?"

"I really do. I'll meet you at seven?"

"Sure, and hey sorry for going aggro on you earlier."

"Hey, don't worry about it. I love you."

"I love you too hot stuff." She giggled and hung up. Peter sat and listened to the tone for a moment before mumbling to himself. "Peter Parker you are one lucky bastard." He knew the truth, that Morbius and he  _were_  very much alike.


	27. Unfortunate Son

"Jack, I have to find him. No arguments." Martine sloppily threw her sweater in a bundle to the top of the suitcase. Jack doubted the mountain of clothes would fit. "You heard about the confrontation with Spider-man?"

"Yeah I heard, says he's going crazy. You ask me ol' Spidey doesn't have much room to judge." He leaned against the bedroom wall and watched Martine chuck a thirty-eight caliber handgun to the top of the luggage. Its weight dented the pile of clothes. "Geeze lady! You ain't planning to kill him are you?!"

"Not my plan, I hope, but if he's suffering.. well, let's just say I'm preparing for any and all contingencies."

"What the hell do you think we can do to help anyways? I'm not exactly a priest."

"You don't have to be, I found an experimental hematologist that's offered to help us. He said he'd at least try."

"Be careful hun, ain't no one out there smarter than your husband.. least when it comes to blood. No puns intended."

Martine turned and glared at him from her crouched position in front of her dresser drawers.

"Errr ex-husband, sorry about that. You two make it complicated."

Martine decided to ignore Jack's comments and get back to the heart of the matter. "We've got to try. If he goes completely crazy he could take out hundreds before he's caught."

Jack whistled out his front teeth. "You're right about that one. He's one deadly guy."

_THUNK THUNK_

The knock at the door startled them both. Martine pressed her fingers to her lips to signal Jack to remain quiet as she walked over to answer it. "Yes?"

"Martine Bancroft?"

"This is she."

"We have some somewhat urgent business to discuss with you involving your husband."

"Who is we?"

A raspier voice took over the talking. "Interested parties, it concerns innocents."

Martine weighed the consequences but Jack nodded. If anything happened he'd have her back. She opened the door. There stood two men. One a man in jeans and a biker jacket, his face covered by sunglasses, the other a man with a flaming skull for a head. This would have really phased her a decade ago but since Morbius' incident she'd been a bit more open minded and quick to adapt. "Please come in."

* * *

"So Mr. Blaze, Mr. umm... Rider, that's the story. I think I've found his daytime resting place given the placement of attacks. We'll be heading out soon to find him, he should be easier to confront after dawn."

Blaze took a sip of the beer offered to him and nodded. "We're coming too." Ghost Rider looked towards him but said nothing.

Martine fished her cell phone out of her bag and dialed. "Good, we need all the help we can get. Hang on just a minute I'll call Langford and have him meet us there." She mumbled into the phone and paced to the bathroom.

While she was gone Jack looked over the men curiously and sipped his beer. "I know you guys from somewhere?"

The being known as Ghost Rider crossed his arms. "Perhaps."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Look man, the lady is protected, just putting that out there."

Blaze and Ghost rider gave each other a look of confusion before Blaze spoke. "And just what is your role in all this werewolf?"

"I'm a friend." He drained the rest of the beer and crushed the can against his forehead with a sickening crunching sound. "A friend of Michael's, not yours. You got me?"

Ghost Rider nodded. "I do indeed have you."

Martine hurried out of the bathroom and grabbed her bag. "Okay, he's meeting us, we're good to go."

* * *

The building was one of the old offices on Fourth street, cleared out and rebuilt elsewhere. It was maybe five stories max with minimal damage to the facade besides the odd broken window that served to clue you in that business was not all well. The front door was still locked, Blaze and Ghost Rider made short work of it.

"Yoohoo, Avon calling!" Blaze chuckled at his own joke.

"Who is this Avon?"

"Umm.. nevermind, I'll explain it later." Blaze sighed.

Jack stood to the back of the group guarding Martine and keeping an eye on that doctor she found..  _Langford's his name?_   _God, that guy is all sorts of creepy._

A bit of rubbish rustled towards the back of the first floor making everyone jump.

"It's just rats people geeze!" Jack twitched his nose in the air, even in human form he was superb at detecting odd scents. "I smell blood.. left. Look left!"

The flashlight swung to the left directed by Martine to behold Morbius partially concealed behind some broken rafters. He was crouched and ready to pounce.

"GO AWAY! BEGONE OR I WILL NOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS!" He hissed tilting his head upwards.

"Michael hunny! You need to come with us!" Martine dropped the light beam to allow Micheal to focus his eyes and see her. His pupils contracted in horror.

"NO! Martine! Don't want you to see me like this.. please!" He held up his hands to hide behind them and twisted his head left to right looking for an exit. Spying a window he fled with supernatural speed, shattering the glass. But Blaze raised his gun and fired striking Morbius once square in the shoulder, Ghost Rider then caught his leg in his chain.

"Don't! You hurt him!" Martine looked at the man angrily.

"It's okay, only winged him. I promise he'll be okay!"

Jack stepped forward to pick up Michael from the sidewalk. He was indeed okay, just knocked out. "He's fine. Let's get him back before he wakes of for chrissakes! Goddamn has this asshole gotten big and heavy!"

Martine rushed over to examine him. "Oh thank god. The lab is near here. Put him in the van!"

* * *

The laboratory was makeshift, far from the state of the art labs of Morbius' past but it had the necessary equipment to look complicated enough to convince Martine that Langford knew what he was doing. He didn't. His goal was to just keep up appearances until he could administer the poison, killing Morbius and claiming all Michael's unpublished works he did during his remission period for his client. Easy money really. "Okay, I'm ready to begin, I need everyone out of the room."

Martine stood holding Michael's unconscious face in her hands playing lightly with his hair. She whispered to him. "It'll be okay Michael. It'll all be okay when you wake up."

Jack put his hand up on her shoulder. "Martine we gotta go. The doc needs us to leave."

"Oh, yes, of course. I'm sorry I just.."

"Yeah I know. I miss him too." He led her out by the arm to the hall where Blaze and Ghost Rider stood leaned against the wall. The four stood in silence. Jack Russell broke it.

"So... you guys wanna get a coffee or something?"

Martine slumped down to the cheap wooden bench. "No way. I'm too nervous to.."

A scream and a crash erupted from the lab causing everyone to turn in that direction. Blaze and ghost Rider were the first two back through the door but Martine was the first to yell. "Langford what happened!?" The hospital bed was empty.

"I don't know! He's mutating! He ran! It's not my fault!"

Jack held the crying Martine and turned to the other two men. "We gotta go get him. He's dangerous."

Blaze checked his gun and nodded. The three men left together. Martine turned to Langford. "I'm going to go lay down.. I need to be alone."

"That's best."

Once she was gone down the hall he picked up the phone receiver and dialed. This was not going to be a fun call. On the fourth ring a man answered. "Hello, Dr. Paine. There's been a complication with Morbius..."

* * *

Too much burning! The pain won't stop! Why won't it stop?! Michael huddled under an alcove trying to keep his body in the shade, lesions formed on his skin where the dawn's rays reached him.  _That was new._

He tried to pull his body in as tightly as possible to no avail. This was inadequate shelter. His thoughts raced in a panic but he tried to calm them. Okay, I know this district. I'm not close to the school but I know someone here.. at least a block away.. if he still lives there and has an office! It's been years, he could have moved by now. Agh.. got to check, it's my only chance.

He took to the air like a wounded seagull. crudely gliding and trying to aim. There! That building almost there! He shattered through glass gasped and then passed out in a heap on the floor of Jacob Wiesenthal's home office.


	28. Carry on

_It's better to be good than evil, but one achieves goodness at a terrific cost._  
~ Stephen King

"Michael? Michael are you okay?"

The world spun too fast for him to take in any details. The room was bright. Too bright for his eyes to focus on any detail. He groaned and turned over.

"So you are awake."

Morbius hissed slightly his face smeared sideways along the cot. "Go.. away.."

"Michael wake up! C'mon now, you already broke my living room window."

Michael's eyes darted open.  _The glass, I made it!_  "Jacob is that you?"

A scruffy looking smaller man with short auburn hair came into view holding a clipboard.

"Jacob. Where am I?"

"I carted you downstairs to my practice. It's not perfect, but I ran a few tests on you while you were out. What happened to you Michael?"

"A lot.."  _For one thing I seem to be making a habit of waking up on cots._

"Understatement of the year I'm guessing." He tapped his clipboard with his pencil.

Michael hoisted himself upright. Jacob was a friend during his remission days, they both worked for the same pharmaceutical company in LA and had known each other well but still, Michael wasn't sure he could trust the man. "My disease came out of remission. I'm a fugitive Jacob. You could get in major trouble for hiding me. And.. you dressed me in a hospital gown?! Oh god, where's my costume?" He clutched the flimsy paper closed over his body.

"I pitched it. You sliced yourself up pretty bad coming through the window. Actually I had to cut you out of the suit and spend an hour picking glass shards out of your skin."

"Ah.. the window. I'm very sorry about that." Michael glanced down at his own hands in shame. His skin was peach tinted, almost normal. "Wait.. my skin am I?! Quick get me a mirror!"

Jacob retrieved a small metal hand mirror from his drawer and handed it over for Morbius to gaze into. "I checked your blood. Your condition is highly unstable but you appear to have shifted back to human. It's not permanent by any means."

Morbius felt a sudden shooting pain in his gut and bent over with his hands clasped to his sides. When he next held the mirror up he could glimpse the fangs elongating and his skin growing pale. He rocked back an forth in an effort to hide the pain.

"The important thing is that whatever caused this instability can be reversed. I just need a sample of whatever was introduced into your system."

"You'll help me even though I'm a monster?" The fangs were almost completely distended now and his skin was back to its normal pallor.

"The Morbius I knew was a good man working to cure people. I don't think you've changed as much as you think you have."

Michael rested his head in his hands. "I remember what happened. I can get that sample for you."

* * *

Martine woke from her rest to hear men talking down the hall.  _Hopefully the guys are back and they found Michael!_  But she didn't recognize these voices. Except for one, Langford. He sounded scared, almost frantic.

"Look. I don't know what happened. It should have been fatal! I did everything I was supposed to!"

Martine opened the door the thirty-eight caliber gun in her hands aimed and ready. "Langford you traitor!"

David Langford stood there shocked surrounded by three men in medical scrubs. One of the men lurched forward and Martine fired a warning shot hitting the wall. "Don't move! Don't any of you move!"

One of the men elbowed her from behind tilting the gun away from the group for one opportune moment. Langford grabbed it and wrenched it forcefully from her hands. He pointed it back to her. "You bitch. You think I give a shit about your precious murderer husband? He's useless, the man can't even die when he's supposed to! Now I'm in trouble because of you and your goddamn vampire! You can go to fucking hell!"

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

After a stop off for new clothes Morbius glided between buildings checking the features on the street below for landmarks.  _Okay, a mailbox there and down this street. Oh thank god I smell Jack! I've never been happier that the idiot reeks of wolf.. wait that smells like blood? Where is blood coming from?_ He found the right building and flew up to the window he busted out earlier. The smell was overpowering, spurring him on as he climbed in on all fours. A body laid in a heap in the shadows not so far away it looked kind of like a woman.

_MARTINE! OH GOD NO!_

He flew over to her in a blur and cradled her in his arms.

"Martine?! Wake up love... please wake up! Oh god there's so much blood!"

"...Mmmichael?"

"Yes, I'm here!" He buried his face down against hers and nuzzled her with his nose. His body fought him, fangs distending against his effort.

"I'm sorry.."

He offered an extremely nervous laugh. "What are you sorry for? You're going to be okay!"

"God you always were a shit liar... can read you like an open book."

The grip of his arms tightened around her and a few tears fell from his eyes dripping red onto her forehead. "You'll be fine.. you've hardly lost any blood at all. I'd know, I'm a doctor remember?" His mind raced.  _two liters at least, probably more. God it smelled good!_

"Listen I just want you to know... I love you." Her voice faded out on the last word and her breathing stopped. He pressed his head firm to her chest crying but the blood was too tempting. Against his control he buried in his teeth draining what little he could. When he pulled up his head again he screamed. No words, no vaguely human sounds, just an animalistic scream of pure horror.

The office door creaked open. Langford and four men in scrubs and goggles stood for a second surveying the room in surprise. A second was all Michael needed.

The men in scrubs shouted and pulled their weapons as Morbius crossed the room in a swoop and took the first man down, slitting him from hip to throat with his claws. His organs spilled in wet piles on the floor soaking the area with bile. He was still twitching when Michael heard a shot resulting in a sting in his shoulder and jumped on the second man. "YOU! WAS IT YOU THAT SHOT HER?!" This one he sunk his teeth into ripping a chunk of ragged skin and flesh from the man's collar bone. It glistened and fell to the floor in a wet smack. He latched onto the hole suctioning out the blood with enough force to collapse the man's arteries. Michael took two more bullets in his back, one striking his spine but he didn't even care. "I'LL KILL YOU ALL!" He ripped an arm straight off the third and left him screaming on the floor still alive to bleed out. The fourth orderly tried to run but slipped on the gore hitting the ground with his skull. Michael was on him in seconds.

Langford hid in a corner but decided to make a break for it while Morbius was siphoning blood out of the last of Paine's men. He clutched the gun tight and took a step.

Michael's head jerked up blood dripping from his mouth in a gush. "YOU."

He stood the gun outstretched and aimed but the vampire reached out and clamped his hand down crushing it around the hilt. Bones splintered. Michael sniffed the air. "That gun smells like her.."

"She made me! I didn't want to kill her!" He screamed and tried to pull away, Michael increased the pressure ripping off the remains of a finger and bending the gun.

He stared in abject amusement at the man's horror. "She was mostly dead when I found her you know."

The sheer calmness of the vampire terrified Langford. That twenty-thousand dollars was suddenly looking pitiful for the job he'd been hired for.

"She barely had time to speak." There was almost no affect to his voice at all, he talked as though he were reciting a recipe.

Langford screamed. "You like women?! I can get you women?! Anything you want I can get it?!"

Michael leaned in towards the man standing only an inch from his face. "You know what I want?"

"YES ANYTHING!"

"I WANT MY WIFE!" With that he shoved his other arm straight through the man's abdomen reaching his fingers through the ribs in his back like a child reaching his fingers through a chainlink fence. Langford looked down as the vampire slid his arm back out flicking it downward to fling bits of blood and organ meat to the floor like trash. He then latched onto the man's throat with his teeth draining whatever he could. There was barely anything left of him when he finished drinking but Michael screamed and kicked the pile of dead meat on the floor repeatedly. When he could no longer compose himself he curled up in a ball and sat on the floor in the pool of blood crying and holding Martine.

_I have to get up. Have to get the sample and get out of here._

He walked like a dead man driven by some unknown force and grasped the flask in Langford's lab. It was the one he had used earlier, Michael recognized the smell.

 _Nothing to do now but run. Why though? What's the point? Everyone I love is dead now. No reason to live. No reason to walk. Where am I even going?_  Michael looked up to realize he had stepped out of the front door to the building in a trance. Ghost Rider, Blaze, and Jack all stood staring at him in amazement. There was not a part of him untouched by blood, as though he had showered in it, rolled in it, and then showered in it again.

Jack spoke first. "Well, I guess we found you..."

The other two men looked at Jack questioningly before he continued.

Jack put up his hands in a nonthreatening manner and inched forward on the street. "So... what happened Mike?"

Morbius stared past him and found himself unable to speak. He just stood frozen trying to process the situation.

Ghost rider shifted a length of chain to his hands but Jack put out his arm to signal him to stop. Blaze simply cussed under his breath.

"Mike.. why are you covered in blood?"

"I... Killed five men inside.. They killed Martine, Jack." Michael cupped his face with a hand and Ghost Rider approached the vampire. In a swift move he took Morbius' chin and tilted it back to stare into his eyes. The two remained still.

"The fuck is he doing?!" Jack took a step forward and Blaze stopped him.

"It's the penance stare. He's checking Michael's thoughts to see if there's truth in his words. It won't hurt him."

Sure enough Morbius blinked his eyes and shook his head from side to side trying to regain his composure. "That was not pleasant." Ghost Rider drew his hand back.

"The vampire speaks the truth."

Morbius took a step towards the street to leave.

"Wait, Mike. Where are you going?"

He turned to the three. "I need to be alone for a while.. a long while."

Jack panicked. "But where will you go?! What are you going to eat?! Hey Michael say something buddy!"

Morbius kept walking and the three let him walk away.


	29. All Things Must End

"Michael Morbius? the scientist? I thought no one had seen him for years?"

"Yeah he disappeared for a while after his fiance' died. SHIELD caught up with him two months back, he's a registered superhuman now. We kind of didn't give him a choice in the matter."

"And just how is this guy supposed to help us at ARMOR?" Charles sat back in his overstuffed office chair and lit a cigarette.

Fury sighed. This was the first in three back to back hours of impending meetings and conference calls and Charles Little Sky was always a difficult negotiator. He never wanted to cooperate with any of Nick's plans and all of ARMOR was secret enough that even he had to be debriefed after this. "Look, he's been here for weeks working in our lab but he's a hazard. you know it, I know it, all my goddamn operatives know it so you take him. Get him off my hands for a while."

"Wait, he's been working in your med lab? How the hell has he lasted this long working in a med lab without blood?!"

"He hasn't. We supply him with about a pint a day. Donated by staff of course."

Charles looked up alarmed. "You're kidding?!"

"I don't kid." The intercom hissed to life on the desk making two clicks. "Fucking equipment, just send him in!" He yelled towards the office door and it opened. Two guards in heavy combat armor stepped through surrounding Morbius who had his hands cuffed in front of him. He was wearing full doctor's scrubs and a white lab coat with an occasional gruesome stain, he looked annoyed with his pointed ears laid back against his head.

"Oh for fuck's sake! Get him out of those!" Fury was pissed, he gave no instructions to cuff the man.

The left guard issued a prompt "Sorry sir." and scrambled for her remote. They fell off him with the press of a button and he rubbed his wrists out of irritation.

Morbius stopped rubbing and looked Charles over once. The deep red eyes gave him chills and he prayed that the vampire didn't notice.

"Michael, this is Charles Little Sky, he's the director for a different organization. You're being reassigned to their jurisdiction."

Michael slowly and cautiously stretched a hand out and offered it to Charles. The man glanced nervously down at it before raising his own to meet it. The vampire smiled his fangs showing in the corners of his open mouth. If Charles didn't know better he'd swear that Morbius was trying to unnerve him.

"Director Sky, I do believe you have my files?"

"Ah.. um yes. Nick has given them to me."

"Okay then. My affairs are in order and my items have already shipped to the provided address. Just what is it at the Alternate Reality Monitoring and Operational Response Agency that needs my expertise? Am I working in trans-dimensional biology now?"

Fury and Little Sky's mouths dropped. ARMOR was so secret that they had to build it below ground completely sealed off from the surface. All staff that had left the project were either dead or debriefed and sworn to secrecy. "How did you?!"

"I heard about your arrival and my impending transfer so I hacked SHIELD's files on you. There wasn't much in official documents, obviously, but Fury has a surprising amount of information in his personal logs. Some of it is just speculation of course. I suggest you replace your security systems and pick a less obvious password." He smiled.

Fury glanced nervously at Charles who smiled. "Welcome aboard."

* * *

The only way into "the Hollow", the main hub of ARMOR, was by teleporter and Michael stood by while the last of his boxes were scanned and loaded through. Ever the skeptic he had yet to be convinced this wouldn't kill him due to his particularly odd physiology. Charles promised they would run tests to be sure. They had never transported someone with another human's DNA in their stomach before.

"Doctor Morbius?" A young woman in her twenties ran up with some clipboards. "Hello, I'm Heather. I have some copies of the technical specs for you. You've been given full clearance so anything else you need just tell me or other staff."

He was stunned. "I have full clearance? I'm not even in the facility yet.. you have no reason to trust me."

"Yeah well anyone that can hack Fury's personal logs can probably handle what we have with ease." Charles Little Sky strolled in behind them carrying a large box. He carefully sat it on the teleporter platform and yelled "CLEAR!". The box sparkled into shards and disappeared. Radios hissed and staff informed them that everything went through okay thus far and that Michael should be safe for teleportation. "Well, there you go Michael, you're cleared. You should be able to teleport just fine."

"I do not trust this machine.." He glared at it with his eyes narrowed.

"Well, you have no choice. It's the only way in."

Michael sighed dramatically and stepped up on the metal platform tucking the clipboards beneath his arm. Charles stood beside him and before he yelled "Clear!" Heather waved goodbye to them both.

It was not pleasant. Like every major limb had gone to sleep all at once and then all feeling returned with a snap. They were suddenly standing in a metal bay with several armored guards. Michael leaned over with his hands on his knees trying to stave off the dizziness that followed.

"Michael are you okay?"

"I'm all right... just a bit nauseous."

"That happens the first time, here." Charles stepped down off the platform and reached down into the box he had transported. He came up holding a metal flask. "Take it."

Michael took it from him with some amount of reluctance and unscrewed the lid. It smells like.. "Blood..?!"

"Yeah, but keep it quiet. It's anticoagulant free and we poured it into flasks so you can go about your schedule without worrying about scaring anyone. The flasks are heated, they maintain a constant ninety-eight degree temperature so long as you recharge them. The recharger is in your room as well as refill supply, we also filtered the lights to cut down UV rays in the laboratory. Your bed is enclosed so you don't have to deal with noise or light, and you have full authority in the lab. My previous staff will be working under you."

Michael tipped the container into his mouth and the warm blood slid down his throat, almost as good as fresh. He felt better almost instantly. "Why are you doing all this for me?"

"What are you talking about?"

Michael capped the flask, screwing it tightly closed and slipping it into the breast pocket of his lab coat. "Don't play dumb with me. I was a wanted fugitive before SHIELD got me and if you read my files you'd know that their psychiatric assessment of my mental stability was that it was tenuous at best. You could easily keep me in a cage if you wanted and no one would slight you for it."

Charles sighed. "Actually their assessment showed that when treated like a monster you behaved like one but when treated like an honest-to-god human being you respond accordingly."

Morbius stood stunned.

"Also they noted that you have some trouble working around members of the fairer sex, you're going to have to go through some sensitivity classes." Charles smiled.

"You're joking.."

"I wish I was. This way Michael." He stepped out through the large sliding metal doors and Morbius hurried to catch up to him.

"I promise I'm not misogynistic.. I just, I worry too much about female coworker's safety. Women in my life seem to have runs of foul luck." The two walked at a brisk pace as they hurried down a complex maze of hallways only to stop outside two glass paneled doors.

Charles laughed. "I know but the classes are still mandatory. Everyone else has already been through similar ones for your benefit."

"For my benefit.. wait, you mean all the staff have had sensitivity training on how to interact with me?!"

"Yes. Haven't you noticed that no one here has made any comment about or reaction to your appearance?"

"I.. I hardly realized." Just then a young female nurse stepped through the glass doors in scrubs and politely nodded to them both as she passed.

"Here, let me show you where you'll be working then one of our agents Deborah is going to give you a full tour. I have far too much on my plate today I do hope you forgive me." Morbius followed him somewhat stunned by several revelations.

"This is.. this is my office?!" The space was small but well-equipped and stocked with a mini-fridge, brand new computer, and several wall mounted consoles. It was kept dark and there was plenty of space for his notes and files. Michael brushed one over of the consoles with his fingers. "This is fantastic."

"We'll set up your passwords tonight okay? Give you time to get settled first. Oh, the monitors show the security feed from all angles of the med bay. If you wanted to do so you could supervise everyone from this office, you'd just use the intercom."

A skinny woman with short cut brown hair leaned into the door. "Hey.. Doctor Morbius?"

"Ah good, this is one of our talented scientists Deb. She'll take over for me now." Charles backed out the door. "And Morbius, welcome to the team."

"It's an honor director." He smiled.

Then it was just Deborah and himself. Alone. An awkward pause took over. Deborah bounced up on her heels. "Soooo.. are you ready for me to show you your quarters?"

"You mean I'm not sleeping here?"

She stifled a laugh. "Oh heavens no! You have a room. As a matter of fact all your belongings should be there by now."

"Well then, lead on." Michael bowed with his arm folded politely at his waist.

* * *

"Here are our containment facilities, this is where we keep any unfortunate beings that break through to our reality by force. As you see, theres not a lot here at the moment."

Michael glanced at the large lighted capsules , only a few inhabited and filled up with fluid. Dim glow reflected off of the bodies outlining them in shadow.

"And if you'll follow me this way you can see the door to my office." The steel door was labeled Deborah Massinger, Mathematician.

"Wait, you will work with me in the medical lab correct?"

"Yes, and I know where this is going. I minored in biology. Most of the work I do here is double-checking calculations." She laughed a bit behind her hand. "You'll find all kinds of employees down here we're a fully functional and self sufficient facility. We even have 4 bartenders! Would you like to see the recreation areas?"

"Recreation areas. Plural?" Michael folded his arms. "Just how big is this place?"

"A couple of square miles, but a lot of that is the green area needed to supply us with oxygen."

"I think perhaps I failed to grasp the scale of this operation until now." He took the flask out of his pocket and unscrewed the top for another swig.

"Is that blood?"

Michael choked mid drink and struggled to get the liquid down.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry! I'm not supposed to ask!"

"No, no. I'm okay. You just caught me off guard. I certainly don't want everyone tiptoeing around the elephant in the room. If you have any questions just ask, and yes.. it is."

"About how much do you drink? Oh, and when you expel how processed is it? Do you intake the plasma or the cells or both? And how do you absorb it? Do you prefer certain blood types..."

Michael broke out in a bout of laughter, almost doubling over.

"Hey now. What's so funny?" She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

"I'm sorry, it's just no one's ever asked about my physiology before in such detail." Michael wiped a tear of laughter from his eye and tried to regain his composure. "Perhaps you could show me where they keep these bartenders and we can discuss it over drinks?"

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"As colleagues. Wow, you are all trying to make me seem as awkward as possible aren't you? It's been a long day I could just use a drink."

Deb laughed. "I'm sorry I was considering how you processed alcohol. I'm on duty but Little Sky is pretty lenient since I'm your guide for today, let's hit the bar and I can go over some things with you."

"That sounds wonderful."

* * *

Deborah snickered into her cosmopolitan while Michael explained to the bartender for the second time just what ouzo was to no avail.

"A whiskey then? Is that possible?"

The bartender turned to make the drink and rolled his eyes at Deb eliciting a giggle. The man was used to it, what with the constant parade of PH.D's and costumed heroes on staff. Far too many egos for his liking.

Michael took the glass offered to him and sat in the booth beside Deborah. He took a sip, swished it in his cheeks, and swallowed. He promptly took out his flask and poured just a few drops of blood into the cup turning it a milky red. "Sorry, it's not the best whiskey I've tasted by a mile."

"Soooo... my questions?"

"Ah, yes. I swallow like a human, the blood goes down my throat and enters my stomach which is only capable of processing liquids and can't handle solid food. During sampling I have even found that my normal stomach bacteria are completely adapted to breaking down blood."

"How did you collect samples from yourself? Do you have an assistant help you or..?"

"I do it the same way I take blood and tissue samples. By myself, with some amount of wincing through the pain."

"Hardcore. And your digestion?" She leaned in towards him fascinated by the conversation. It was a wonder she wasn't taking notes.

"Well much like a bat I digest the blood cells and the plasma passes through. Waste product is mostly ammonia and water, much like a lot of carnivores. My bladder has adapted, most of my organs have been completely rearranged, my muscle tissue is highly oxygenated due to the high flow of my bloodstream, and my bones are mostly hollow as I don't need the marrow. Alcohol gets absorbed through my tissues straight into my bloodstream, the rest is just water. This of course means I stick to high proof alcohol and not mixed drinks. Anything with fruit or colorants would probably be rejected by my body. Did I miss anything?" He downed another swig of the drink.

"This is all fascinating. How much?"

"Pardon?"

"How much do you drink?"

"Ah, that's tricky. I can live on something like three pints a week, but times when I've ..fasted I've drained about three to four liters out of one person."

"Three to four liters?! That would be fatal! Wouldn't it!?" She smiled nervously.

He stopped lifting his glass and sat it back down on the table, staring at her wide-eyed. "They didn't tell you..." His voice trailed off.

"Tell me what?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. No more questions, I have something I need to discuss with our  _director_."

* * *

Deborah led Michael to Charles's office and the man issued a curt apology and darted inside. He seemed angry, though at least not at her.

"Little Sky?! Where are you? I have questions!"

"Michael can it wait? You've scarcely been here four hours." He peeked up from his desk-like console shuffling a stack of paperwork.

"No, it cannot. No one here knows what I've done do they? You didn't tell them because I'm a liability."

"What are you prattling on about?"

"My past! The murders! My days fighting Spider-man and the counts of manslaughter! For fuck's sake Charles I killed my wife and you didn't tell them!"

"Martine Bancroft's autopsy shows she would have died with or without your interference. She was shot in the head for fuck's sake." Morbius glared at him. "I wanted everyone here to treat you like a human being. They don't need to know your past just like you don't need to know what every one of my staff did in high school."

"Yeah but when Bob the guy from accounting went to an all-night kegger in ninth grade people around him didn't DIE!"

"Michael really now" Charles sighed. "Look, come with me I have something for you. Part of your job really."

Morbius was furious but Charles seemed so calm. He agreed to follow.

"Here, behind this door is top secret. You have clearance of course, but you can never speak of it to anyone."

Michael nodded in agreement more curious than ever.

Charles opened the door to reveal a well lit huge room with computer monitors covering every inch of the walls. Each one had a small label in the corner.

"What is this? Wait in that picture.. is that Spider-man? But his costume is wrong.."

"Sometimes we can establish a stable video feed to some closer dimensions. We've started to number code them and watch them for threats. Check number 601."

He searched his eyes along the pictures until he recognized the number and stepped closer. A human man in a sweater sat on a couch cuddled close with a blonde woman, they were watching TV together in each other's arms. "That's.. that's me... and Martine.."

"It's not really you and Martine, it's a reality where you haven't performed your tests yet. You're still human."

"I need to be alone."

"I shouldn't leave you alone here Michael, you don't even know the door passwords yet and.."

"NOW!" Morbius turned, his eyes glowed red in the dark almost brighter than the monitor's light. His pupils contracted to specks and his face was contorted in rage.

"Okay, I'll wait outside.." Charles nervously backed out of the door only to meet Deborah on the other side.

"Hi director, how is he doing?"

"He could be doing better honestly."

Inside the room Michael unscrewed the flask and drained the rest of the blood in desperation. On the monitor Martine leaned over and hugged the alternate version of himself close while snuggling under his chin. Micheal watched her through the screen and dusted his fingers across the image. "I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry." The tears streamed down his face leaving red streaks.


	30. Iatré, Therápeuson Seautón

"Hey Doctor, have a good weekend?" The tall man in power armor rounded the corner of the lab to find Michael working at a table with a pad of paper in hand.

"It went as usual." He didn't even bother to look up from his notes.

"Oookay. Gotcha." Jason shrugged and moved on. It was too early to deal with the recluse, it was time for coffee and doughnuts and the morning patrol.

Michael waited until he was out of view and gathered together his scraps of notes. He had one chance at this so it better as hell work.

Around the deck from the lab Braxton sat with his feet up on the edge of the console reclined in his office chair. Upon hearing the gushing sound of the door opening he started upright and put his feet down on the floor. "Oh, it's just you doctor. Everything okay?"

"Yes, splendid in fact. We're having a staff meeting at five this morning, didn't you remember?"

"Uuuuh no.." Braxton searched his head for anytime he might have been ignoring any incoming messages. It was a long list of possibilities.

"You'd best hurry to the left lab wing, I'm getting supplies for the meeting right now." Michael kicked at the boxes in the corner to indicate them.

"Oh got ya'. Hey lock the door when you're done okay?" He rose and removed his helmet to take a deep breath of air on his way out.

"I will, no problem. See you shortly." Braxton exited and Morbius ran to the door pressing his ear to it. Silence, good. He took the handle and bent it over on itself. "Okay, quickly now, quickly!" Michael zoomed over to the console and began punching in numbers from his notes. "876540954...218756." he mumbled them all under his breath as he typed. The room glowed and expanded as a brilliant purple portal swirled in front of the console. "YES!"

Sirens sounded and the red lights of the alarm began to flash. Michael grabbed his notebook and heard the yelling behind the door as he leapt through with all the speed he could gather. He disappeared into the milky greyness of the center.

* * *

Michael walked in the door of his apartment and happily sat down his briefcase on the marble countertop. The lights were off. "Martine, are you home?"

"She isn't." The man came from the shadows of the hallway and stared Michael down with his luminescent red eyes. He looked like a crazed monster.

Michael reacted in shock and anger. "Where is she?! What have you done with her!?"

"Relax, I did nothing but call her, she thinks she's meeting you at the diner where you first ate together."

"How do you know about that?!"

"I know, I've been where you are. I know you're dying too." The monster sat on a barstool and motioned for Michael to sit in the adjacent seat. Michael obliged beginning to sense that something was very unusual about this strange man.

"You're me... Oh god, what happened? What is this?" He was shaking.

Morbius pulled the bottle of ouzo from the counter, poured himself a glass, and downed it in a rush. "You're planning an experiment. The one with the serum you've developed on a yacht in international waters. I'm here to tell you not to do it."

The human Michael took the bottle from the vampire's hand and drank a gulp down straight from it. "And if I do the experiment?"

"Emil dies, Martine dies, the joy of life dies, but you keep walking anyway because you, you can't die. You live. You will always live."

"I.. I don't understand! Why do this?"

"I'm doing this for her, for Martine who is as important to you as my Martine was to me.. so you can take care of her." Morbius slid his notebook across the table. "We're being watched and have very little time but this is what you need. Look at it, burn it to your memory and take this as well.. to remind you of what will happen if you fail." He reached into his pocket and grasped something tightly in his hand but a huge portal opened in the living room startling him and causing him to drop it. The loud rush of the swirling vortex was nothing compared to the voice of the man who stepped through.

"MORBIUS WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?" Charles Little Sky's yell boomed through the living room as two sets of men in power armor came through behind him.

Morbius didn't reply he simply stood up absolutely calm and offered his wrists held in front of him. The four armored men came forward to cuff him and as one went by he grabbed the notebook from Michael's hands. They offered no explanation to him as they all led the now cuffed vampire back through the portal. Before he left the monster formerly Michael Morbius smiled over his shoulder and shouted in Greek over the roaring noise "Iatré, therápeuson seautón!" Then the glaring portal closed in on itself leaving Michael alone with the sudden silence.

He ran to the coffee table, grabbed a pen, and started drawing out notes, long notes. He didn't so much as pause for twenty minutes filling up the page with chemical formulas. Martine barged in the door angrily slamming it behind her.

"Just what exactly is the big deal inviting me to meet you at the diner and then not showing up?!"

"Martine I.. I can't explain it. Something miraculous has happened."

"Oh yeah, what's the big miracle?"

"I think I just cured a rare type of leukemia.."

She shook her head in disbelief. "Wait.. really?! The one you'd been working on?! That's great news! I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"No, it's okay. It's just a theory, it needs testing.." She ran up and hugged him but smelled the scent of ouzo on his breath.

"Wait, have you been drinking?"

"Just a bit to calm my nerves.." He rubbed the back of his head as she crossed her arms angrily at him.

"Are you drunk?" She walked over to the bar. "Oh my god, look! See how much you drank?! That bottle was half full!"

"Martine I'm not.." Then the thought occurred to him that maybe he was. Perhaps the whole incident was stress and alcohol working a dual influence. Perhaps the cancer had spread to his mind and his thoughts were being affected.

She sighed and kissed him on the forehead. "I'm going to take a shower okay? I love you, please just stop writing and work on it tomorrow with Emil at the lab."

"I will Martine. I love you too." He held her close and buried his face in the crook of her neck before she pulled back and went towards the bathroom. The water noisily went on shortly after while he went to put the glass on the counter away. Something small and metal rolled around inside so he lifted it up to have a better look. Inside the glass was Martine's wedding ring, the one he had special ordered.

He walked over and knocked on the door to the bathroom. "Martine, love. Did you take your ring off?"

She shut off the shower. "What? No. See?" She held out her hand and he took it in his. The unique band shined in gold as it always had. He held up the other between his fingers, it was the same except for a dried and crusted substance covering the ring in red.

* * *

"You put me in a really fucking ugly position you know that!? What the hell were you thinking?!"

Morbius simply sat handcuffed to the chair, silent.

Charles ran his hands through his hair. "God fucking DAMMIT! You know nothing about that dimension or how it's different from ours! You stole operation codes, you destroyed ARMOR property! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED!"

Still nothing. Morbius sat staring off into the distance.

"Just.. just tell me why?! Anything, just fucking talk!"

"Director..?" Deborah approached through the detention hall doorway with Morbius' notepad.

"Yes Deb come in.."

"The notes are a cure.. were a cure.. umm... was a cure for Morbius' condition, when he was human, sir. It's a rare condition but they cured it a few years back."

Morbius grinned, his fangs denting his lower lip.

"Oh you look so fucking proud of yourself! I can't even deal with this, this is a major breach of trust! I should throw your ass to SHIELD and let them put you out on the Raft with the rest of the villains!" Charles leaned down on the nearby desk resting on his knuckles.

Deborah softly stepped up to Michael and in a soothing voice asked him. "What did you say to him? That last thing you shouted.. it didn't transmit right over the noise."

Michael raised his eyes up to meet hers and smiled a wide and toothy grin. With a calm and reverberating voice he spoke the words "Physician, heal thyself" then laughed.

Charles looked away. The damage was done. There was nothing he could do. The Morbius of 610 now had the capability to cure his disease and completely change the turn of events that should have occurred. He sighed. "Goddamn it." It was all he could say.

Michael just kept laughing. Somewhere another version of himself could live his life full, perhaps have children, someday retired, and die, all never knowing just what it had cost him and who had paid the balance.

* * *

Greetings reader! A brief word from the author.

I hope you enjoyed the story. I set out with the goal of filling in some gaps in canon, fleshing out the relationship between Morbius and Martine, and showing a bit more of his character than the comics. I do hope I accomplished that goal well and that you had fun reading it ( _And hey, if so a review would be lovely!)_.

Morbius is my favorite character. Not my favorite  _Marvel_  character, not my favorite  _canon_  character, not my favorite  _comics_  character. My favorite  **character. Period. End of all discussion.**  I find him fascinating, he's a good man driven to do bad things and quite frankly Marvel throws him under the proverbial bus a lot. Bad writing, out of character depictions, retcons, pointless plots, Twilight jokes ( _For fuck's sake he was created a near forty years before Twilight! Please cut that shit out_ ), he seems to get the short end of all sticks but he still keeps going. You can't stop him, he doesn't give up. I guess that's why I write, for a fictional vampire who needs at best a little encouragement and maybe one,  _just one,_  small moment of victory.

So this one's for you Morbius. May you find a moment of happiness no matter how fleeting.


End file.
